


The Hidden Spirit

by NikkiPond



Series: The Hidden Series [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Jack?, Gen, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Fourth Year, Mystery, Slytherin Jack, Spirit - Freeform, Triwizard Tournament, goblet of fire - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 20:36:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 71,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4073044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikkiPond/pseuds/NikkiPond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in “The Goblet of Fire” – When Harry returns for his fourth year, he isn’t surprise to find more mysteries ahead of him, and yet dangerous. He’s curious about this Triward Tournament taking place, and especially this mysterious transfer student. And Harry has a feeling that he’s dangerous. And possibly he’s involved with Voldemort. What is going on? And what is the mystery lying in the forest?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Harry sat down with the rest of the Gryffindors as his friends, Ron and Hermione, sat next to him. He looked around his surroundings. The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. It was his first time attending the Sorting since his own.

He thought for a moment all the events that happened in summer. The Quidditch World Cup, the Dark Mark, and what had Dumbledore said to him. After the Quidditch World Cup, Dumbledore had arrived at the Burrow and had a private ‘chat’ with him. He didn’t tell his friends because he didn’t feel like it, just like those nightmares he had back in the Dursley’s house.

“Hiya, Harry!”

Harry looked up and saw Colin Creevey, a third year to whom Harry was something of a hero.

 “Hi, Colin,” Harry said, looking wary.

“Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry? My brother’s starting! My brother Dennis!”

“Er – good.”

“He’s really excited!” Colin said, practically bouncing up and down in his seat. “I just hope he’s in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?”

“Er - yeah, all right,” Harry said. He turned back to Hermione, Ron, and Nearly Headless Nick.

“Brothers and sisters usually go in the same Houses, don’t they?” he said. He was judging by the Weasleys, all seven of whom had been put into Gryffindor.

“Oh no, not necessarily,” said Hermione. “Parvati Patil’s twin’s in Ravenclaw, and they’re identical. You’d think they’d be together, wouldn’t you?”

Hermione frowned as she scanned the staff table. “Where’s the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?” she asked. “Maybe they couldn’t get anyone!” said Hermione, looking anxious.

Harry scanned the table more carefully. Tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was sitting on a large pile of cushions beside Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, whose hat was askew over her flyaway gray hair. She was talking to Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department. On Professor Sinistra’s other side was the sallow-faced, hook-nosed, greasy-haired Potions master, Snape - Harry’s least favorite person at Hogwarts. Harry’s loathing of Snape was matched only by Snape’s hatred of him, a hatred which had, if possible, intensified last year, when Harry had helped Sirius escape right under Snape’s overlarge nose – Snape and Sirius had been enemies since their own school days. On Snape’s other side was an empty seat, which Harry guessed was Professor McGonagall’s. Next to it, and in the very center of the table, sat Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, his sweeping silver hair and beard shining in the candlelight, his magnificent deep green robes embroidered with many stars and moons. The tips of Dumbledore’s long, thin fingers were together and he was resting his chin upon them, staring up at the ceiling through his half-moon spectacles as though lost in thought. Harry glanced up at the ceiling too. It was enchanted to look like the sky outside, and he had never seen it look this stormy. Black and purple clouds were swirling across it, and as another thunderclap sounded outside, a fork of lightning flashed across it.

“Oh hurry up,” Ron moaned, beside Harry, “I could eat a hippogriff.”

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall. Harry was surprised to see all the first years seemed to be dry, since it was raining outside. He winced a bit as he rubbed his scar. Luckily, his friends hadn’t noticed.

Professor McGonagall now placed a three-legged stool on the ground before the first years and, on top of it, an extremely old, dirty patched wizard’s hat. The first years stared at it. So did everyone else. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:

_A thousand years or more ago,_

_When I was newly sewn,_

_There lived four wizards of renown,_

_Whose names are still well known:_

_Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,_

_Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,_

_Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,_

_Shrewd Slytherin, from fin._

_They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,_

_They hatched a daring plan_

_To educate young sorcerers_

_Thus Hogwarts School began._

_Now each of these four founders_

_Formed their own house, for each_

_Did value different virtues_

_In the ones they had to teach._

_By Gryffindor, the bravest were_

_Prized far beyond the rest;_

_For Ravenclaw, the cleverest_

_Would always be the best;_

_For Hufflepuff, hard workers were Most worthy of admission;_

_And power-hungry Slytherin_

_Loved those of great ambition._

_While still alive they did divide_

_Their favorites from the throng,_

_Yet how to pick the worthy ones_

_When they were dead and gone?_

_‘Twas Gryffindor who found the way,_

_He whipped me off his head_

_The founders put some brains in me_

_So I could choose instead!_

_Now slip me snug about your ears,_

_I’ve never yet been wrong,_

_I’ll have a look inside your mind_

_And tell where you belong!_

The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished.

“That’s not the song it sang when it Sorted us,” Harry said.

“Sings a different one every year,” said Ron. “It’s got to be a pretty boring life, hasn’t it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all year making up the next one.”

“I don’t know…” Harry said as he watched Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment.

 When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool,” Professor McGonagall said. “When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table.

“Ackerley, Stewart!”

Everyone watched as the first years got sorted. After Colin’s younger brother was sorted Hermione said, “Who’s that?” she pointed at something.

Ron and Harry followed her gaze and was surprised to see a boy who looked to be around their age and was standing behind the first years. They wondered how they did not noticed him. Soon, everyone started to notice the new boy and whispers filled in the room.

“Do you suppose he’s a new student?” Ron wondered.

“Must be.” Hermione nodded. “But what I don’t understand why now?”

“Can they do that?” Harry frowned. “I mean, shouldn’t he receive one when he’s eleven?”

“Unless they didn’t detect him, which is impossible.” Hermione said.

When all the eleven years old were sorted, the 14 year old boy was the only standing.

“Students, may I welcome you our new transfer student, from America, Jack Black. He will be joining fourth year.” Dumbledore smiled. Soon whispers filled in the room and Harry could hear people saying:

“A Black?”

“Do you suppose he’s related to Sirius Black?”

“He’s cute!”

“Black, Jack!” Professor McGonagall called.

Everyone went silent when Jack plopped down on the stool. Harry noticed Jack didn’t show any expression, not a hint detected or showing any signs of being nervous. Professor McGonagall placed the hat on him.

Harry observed Jack’s expression. He noticed he looked a little bit annoyed and then resigned.

The hat kept saying “hmmp” and after 10 seconds it seemed to make a decision.

“SLYTHERIN!”

Jack smiled as lifted the hat off and walked over to the green and silver table, applause ringing in his ears.

McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away. Professor Dumbledore stood up as he smiled around the students, his arms opened wide in welcome. “I have only two words to say to you. Tuck in!”

Soon the empty dishes filled magically around the student. The Golden Trio talked to Nearly Headless Nick and Hermione looked surprised when she heard the house elves cooked their meals.

“Certainly,” said Nearly Headless Nick, looking surprised at her reaction. “The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred.” 

“I’ve never seen one!” Hermione said.

“Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they?” Nearly Headless Nick said. “They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning… see to the fires and so on… I mean, you’re not  supposed to see them, are you? That’s the mark of a good house-elf, isn’t it, that you don’t know it’s there?”

Hermione stared at him in disbelief, and she said, “But they get paid? They get holidays, don’t they? And - and sick leave, and pensions, and everything? Right?”

Nearly Headless Nick laughed. “Sick leave and pensions? House-elves don’t want sick leave and pensions!”

Hermione pushed her hardly touched plate of food away from her.

Ron rolled his eyes, and said, while accidentally spraying Harry with bits of Yorkshire pudding. “Oh c’mon, ‘Er-my-knee.” He swallowed. “Oops — sorry, ‘Arry — You won’t get them sick leave by starving yourself!”

“This is slave labor!” Hermione cried. “I can’t believe this!”

“Hermione, House Elves want to do work.” Ron said.

Hermione glared at him. “This is…”

Harry shook his head as Hermione and Ron argued about House Elves. He looked around the room, and when his eyes slid to the Slytherin table. Jack met his eyes--a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry’s forehead.

“Ouch!” Harry clapped a hand to his head.

Jack eyed at him for a moment before moving to talk to his fellow Housemates. The pain had gone as quickly as it had come.

“Harry? Harry! What is it?”

Harry looked up and could see Hermione and Ron’s concern look.

“Are you alright, mate?” Ron asked.

“Nothing,” Harry shook his head.

“Is your scar hurting?” Hermione asked.

“Could we talk about this later?” Harry said as he started to think about Jack. He hadn’t felt that much pain since first year. He wondered if this was like first year where Voldemort was hidden behind someone’s head, but Harry didn’t think Voldemort was behind Jack’s head. So why did he felt like that when he looked at Jack _unless_ …

All his thoughts about the new student were forgotten when Dumbledore stood up and said, “Well, now we’re all settled in and sorted, I’d like to make a special announcement. But first, I must give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch’s office, if anybody would like to check it.” 

The corners of Dumbledore’s mouth twitched. He continued, “As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. And that Duelling club will opened starting next week.”

“No way!” Harry could hear some of the students whispering excitedly. Harry wasn’t sure what to feel about that since the last time, everyone knew that was a Parseltongue. Then again, he didn’t mind duelling other students.

Everyone went silent when Dumbledore spoke up, “And, it is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year.”

“What?” Harry gasped.

In the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy didn’t look surprised and was saying something to his housemates.

“This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers’ time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwart, we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year.”

 “You’re JOKING!” Fred Weasley said loudly, eyes wide.

The hall were filled with noises as many students whispered excitedly while some looked confused.

“I am not joking, Mr. Weasley,” Dumbledore chuckled. “though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar.”

 Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

 “Er - but maybe this is not the time… no…” Dumbledore shook his head, “where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament… well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.

“The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued.”

Harry’s eyes lit up with interest as Hermione looked alarmed about the deaths that had happened hundreds of years ago.

“There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament,” Dumbledore continued, “none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.

 “The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money.”

Harry could see at every house table, people were whispering to their neighbors or gazing raptly at Dumbledore. He could especially hear one of the twins saying excitedly of joining the tournament. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more.

“Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts,” he said, “the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This” —

Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious - “is a measure we feel is  necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion.” His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred’s and George’s mutinous faces. “I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen. Trust me when I say these contest are not for the faint hearted…”

Then the students screamed when they heard a thunder roared, rain began to leak through the roof.

Then they saw magic cast through the roof and it seemed to be sealing it. Peace was restored. Everyone turned around and saw a man standing in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff and wearing a black cloak. He lowered his hood, and then began to walk up towards the teacher’s table.

Every student could hear a dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every step and the students couldn’t help when the man walked passed them shivered.

“Bloody hell. That’s Mad-Eye Moody.” Ron whispered, eyes wide.

“Alastor Moody?” Hermione said. “The Auror?”

“You mean the one your dad went to help this morning?” Harry asked.

“What happened to his face?!” Hermione asked. Harry noticed Moody’s face and shivered a bit.

“Ah, my dear old friend.” Dumbledore smiled as he shook hands with the ex-Auror. “Thank you for coming.”

“That stupid roof,” Moody muttered.

Dumbledore gestured him to the empty seat. Moody sat down and shook his mane of dark gray hair our of his face, and pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.

“May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?” Dumbledore said brightly. “Professor Moody.”

None of the staff or the student clapped hands except for Dumbledore and Hagrid, and surprisingly, Jack Black, the new student. They quickly stopped when they noticed no one was following their lead.

“As I was saying,” Dumbledore cleared his throat. “The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!”

Everyone got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall. Harry could hear everyone talking about the Tournament.

He shook his head and looked back and could see Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled a bit.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Harry and his friends walked down the sloping lawn towards Hagrid’s small wooden cabin, which stood on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of his enormous black boarhound, Fang. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet, and Fang was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely. As they drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached their ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions.

“Mornin’!” Hagrid said, grinning at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. “Be’er wait fer the Slytherins, they won’ want ter miss this - Blast-Ended Skrewts!”

“Come again?” Ron frowned.

Hagrid pointed down into the crates.

“Eurgh!” squealed Lavender Brown, jumping backward. “Eurgh” just about summed up the Blast-Ended Skrewts in Harry’s opinion. They looked like deformed, shell-less lobsters, horribly pale and slimy-looking, with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads. There were about a hundred of them in each crate, each about six inches long, crawling over one aother, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes. They were giving off a very powerful smell of rotting fish. Every now and then, sparks would fly out of the end of a skrewt, and with a small phut, it would be propelled forward several inches.

“On’y jus’ hatched,” Hagrid said proudly, “so yeh’ll be able ter raise ‘em yerselves! Thought we’d make a bit of a project of it!”

“And why would we want to raise them?”

They turned around and saw the Slytherins had arrived.

Draco Malfoy was the one who spoke. Crabbe and Goyle were chuckling. Behind them, Jack was standing between a blonde girl and a guy who Harry does not recognized.

Hagrid looked stumped at the question.

“I mean, what do they _do_?” asked Malfoy. “What is the _point_ of them?”

Jack rolled his eyes as Hagrid said, “Tha’s next lesson, Malfoy. Yer jus’ feedin’ ‘em today. Now, yeh’ll wan’ ter try ‘em on a few diff’rent things - I’ve never had ‘em before, not sure what they’ll go fer - I got ant eggs an’ frog livers an’ a bit o’ grass snake - just try ‘em out with a bit of each.”

“First pus and now this,” muttered Seamus.

Nothing but deep affection for Hagrid could have made Harry, Ron, and Hermione pick up squelchy handfuls of frog liver and lower them into the crates to tempt the Blast-Ended Skrewts. Harry couldn’t suppress the suspicion that the whole thing was entirely pointless, because the skrewts didn’t seem to have mouths.

“Ouch!” yelled Dean Thomas after about ten minutes. “It got me.”

Hagrid hurried over to him, looking anxious.

“Its end exploded!” Dean said angrily, showing Hagrid a burn on his hand.

“Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off,” said Hagrid, nodding.

“Eurgh!” said Lavender Brown again. “Eurgh, Hagrid, what’s that pointy thing on it?”

“Ah, some of ‘em have got stings,” said Hagrid enthusiastically (Lavender quickly withdrew her hand from the box). “I reckon they’re the males… The females’ve got sorta sucker things on their bellies… I think they might be ter suck blood.”

“Well, I can certainly see why we’re trying to keep them alive,” said Malfoy sarcastically. “Who wouldn’t want pets that can burn, sting, and bite all at once?”

“I don’t know Draco,” Jack said as he enthusiastically feed the Skrewts. It surprised Harry for a moment since he was given an expression Jack was the silent type and he noted that Jack had an American accent.

“Are you kidding me?” Malfoy looked incredulous when he saw Jack’s gleeful look. “You would want _that_!”

“I don’t mind taking care of them.” Jack said. When he looked up, he saw the class’ surprised look. He cleared his throat and chuckled nervously. It seemed there was never a Slytherin who was excited about Care of Magical Creatures class. Especially taught by Hagrid.

Hagrid beamed at Jack.

“I’m surprised we have we have 1 Slytherin enjoying Hagrid’s class.” Hermione said as they made their way back up to the castle for lunch an hour later.

“Yeah, that Jack.” Ron nodded.

“Do you think he’s related to Snuffles?” Harry questioned.

“We could ask Snuffles later.”

“Now Harry,” Hermione glanced at Ron for a moment and said, “We…what’s going on? With the scar I mean, yesterday.”

Harry sighed and gestured the Gryffindor table. They sat down and helped themselves to lamb chops and potatoes before he started telling them his scar yesterday and Jack. It took a minute for them to observe this information.

“Do you think You-Know-Who is in there? Like Professor Quirrell?” Ron wondered.

Harry shook his head. “I don’t think so. I don’t see Voldemort’s face behind his head.”

“And it didn’t hurt in class, didn’t it?” Hermione asked. Harry shook his head. He had looked at Jack in breakfast and throughout the day, his scar hadn’t hurt, not even in Hagrid’s class. “Maybe it isn’t Jack, I mean, we all thought it was Snape.”

“I don’t know,” Harry said. He was unsure too if it was Jack that was causing his scar to hurt after what happened today.

When the bell rang, Hermione left and Ron and Harry went to Divination class.

* * *

 

The Golden Trio headed down to the Great Hall for dinner.

“Weasley! Hey, Weasley!”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing there, each looking thoroughly pleased about something.

“What?” Ron snapped.

“Your dad’s in the paper, Weasley!” Malfoy said, holding a copy of the Daily Prophet and speaking very loudly, so that everyone in the packed entrance hall could hear. “Listen to this!”

**FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC**

_It seems as though the Ministry of Magic’s troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office._

Malfoy looked up.

“Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It’s almost as though he’s a complete nonentity, isn’t it?” he crowed.

Everyone in the entrance hall was listening now. Malfoy straightened the paper with a flourish and read on:

_Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers (“policemen”) over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of “Mad-Eye” Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody’s heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer Daily Prophet questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene._

“And there’s a picture, Weasley!” Malfoy said. “A picture of your parents outside their house - if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn’t she?”

Ron was shaking with fury. Everyone was staring at him.

“Get stuffed, Malfoy.” Harry snapped, “C’mon, Ron…”

“Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren’t you, Potter?” Malfoy sneered. “So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?”

“You know your mother, Malfoy?” Harry said as he and Hermione grabbed the back of Ron’s robes to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy. “that expression she’s got, like she’s got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?”

 Malfoy’s pale face went slightly pink.

“Don’t you dare insult my mother, Potter.” He spat.

“Keep your fat mouth shut, then,” Harry said.

“Come on, Draco.” Jack came up behind Draco, placing his hand on his shoulder and steering him away from the Golden Trio. “He’s not worth it. And the teachers are here. Best not making a scene.”

The Golden Trio went towards the Gryffindor Table and ate their dinner.

* * *

 

Harry was walking the Hogwarts Ground.

He had decided to go for a walk after he woke up in the middle of night, with the help of his Invisibility Cloak. He had a strange dream and wasn’t sure what to think about it. All he could remember was bright flash of light. There was more of it, that he was sure but he had forgotten the rest after he woke up.

_Crunch_

Harry looked up and was surprised to see Jack walking out of the Forbidden Forest.

It made Harry a little suspicious, unless Jack was just curious since he’s a new student.

* * *

 

“So you are saying that Jack went out in the middle of the night to the Forbidden Forest?” Hermione said as they walked down to the dungeons where their next period was Potions. Harry nodded.

“Yes.”

“He could be just looking there out of curiosity? I mean, he’s a transferee student.” Hermione said.

“Yeah mate.” Ron agreed.

“I don’t know…” Harry said uncertainly as they entered inside the classroom and took the seats in the back. Everyone soon waited for Dumbledore. Harry watched as the Slytherins entered the room. Malfoy appeared to be the lead, with his typical arrogant look as his eyes sauntered looking for a seat. Later, Jack walked into the room with that blonde girl Harry had seen yesterday and a brunette boy. The three took a seat just behind Malfoy.

Harry leaned back, trying to hear what they were saying.

“…didn’t like it. It was Theo’s fault!” The blonde girl said.

“It wasn’t my fault!” the brunette boy cried. Harry assumed he must be Theo. The blonde girl just gave him a dirty look.

“Oh come on, guys, lighten up.” Jack said, looking at his friends between himself.

“Settle down students,” Professor Snape said as he entered the classroom. The room fell silent. He walked behind his desk and his eyes sauntered each and every student. “Before we begin today’s lesson, may I remind you that next year that you must put your effort for your examination in OWLS in your fifth year. I expect you to pay attention closely this class or you will suffer my…displeasure.” He sneered at Neville, who squirmed. “This year we will be learning antidotes, so I expect 1 feet essays for every antidotes we apply every Tuesday. And I expect you to read your textbooks in advance for this will be part of your grades.”

Snape waved his wand and a complete potion set appeared on his desk. “Today we will begin the Pepper Up Potion. Can anyone tell me what this potion does?”

Hermione raised her hand. Snape ignored her and said, “Yes Mr. Malfoy?”

“It cures common colds.” Draco said with a bored look.

“5 points to Slytherin.” Snape nodded. “This is one of the most common potions and I expect everyone one of you to do this properly that your little minds could handle,” He sneered the last part to Neville. “The ingredients and the methods—“ he flicked his wand and a writing appeared on the blackboard. “—are on the blackboard. I expect you write this down on your notes. And you will find everything you need in the store cupboard. You have an hour…so start!”

Some of the class went to the cupboard while the others write down the ingredients and methods from the blackboard. Harry got up and went to the cupboard to get the ingredients. Few minutes later.

“LONGBOTTOM!”

Everyone jumped. They saw Neville’s cauldron melted and Professor Snape looking displeased.

“Tell me boy, how can you not brew one of the most common potions a simple second year could do? Can’t that thick skull of yours not understand this?” Professor Snape snapped. “Miss Granger, assist him.”

Few minutes later.

 “Times up. I want a sample of your potion and place it on my desk with your name on it. I expect your 1 feet essay by next week and I want you to write down the history and the side-effects, especially the methods and ingredients. Class dismissed.” Snape said.

Everyone left the room. Harry was a little relieved, for once, Snape didn’t bothered him.

“Snape is in a foul mood.” Ron commented as they headed towards the Great Hall.

“Yeah.” Harry nodded.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry knew today was their first Defense Against The Dark Arts class and he wondered how Professor Moody was going to teach them today. So far, Lupin will always be his favourite. And he wondered about Moody. He had heard from George and Fred that it was “wicked”.

The Golden Trio entered the DADA classroom and took their seats. They pulled out their copies of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection. And they looked around. Unfortunately, they have DADA class with the Slytherins. They watched as some of their class entered and taking their seats as they waited for Professor Moody.

Everyone jumped when they heard a loud bang as Professor Moody entered the classroom with a distinctive clunking footsteps, looking as strange and frightening as ever. He stood behind the desk and eyed the classroom. Harry noticed Moody was staring hard at the Slytherins with disdain. His magical eye zooming around the room.

“You can put those away,” Professor Moody growled, stumping over to his desk and sitting down, “those books. You won’t need them.”

Everyone did as they were told. Moody pushed out his grey hair out of his face and pulled out a long parchment and started calling out names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eyes swiveled around, fixing upon each students as he or she answered.

“Black?”

“Here.” Jack said, who was seated next to Theo. His table was just right behind with Crabbe and Draco.

“Right then,” Moody said, when the last person had declared themselves present, “I’ve had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you’ve had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures - you’ve covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?” 

There was a general murmur of assent.

“But you’re behind - very behind - on dealing with curses,” said Moody. “So I’m here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I’ve got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark -”

“What, aren’t you staying?” Ron blurted out.

Moody’s magical eye spun around to stare at Ron; Ron looked extremely apprehensive, but after a moment Moody smiled - the first time Harry had seen him do so. The effect was to make his heavily scarred face look more twisted and contorted than ever, but it was nevertheless good to know that he ever did anything as friendly as smile. Ron looked deeply relieved.

“You’ll be Arthur Weasley’s son, eh?” Moody’s mouth twitched upwards. “Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago… Yeah, I’m staying just the one year. Special favor to Dumbledore… One year, and then back to my quiet retirement.”

He gave a harsh laugh, and then clapped his gnarled hands together. 

“So - straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I’m supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. I’m not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you’re in the sixth year. You’re not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore’s got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you’re up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you’ve never seen? A wizard who’s about to put an illegal curse on you isn’t going to tell you what he’s about to do. He’s not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared! You need to be alert and watchful! You need to put that away, Miss Parkinson, when I’m talking!”

Pansy huffed as she put away her mirror.

“So, I’m Alastor Moody.” Moody said as he wrote down those words on the blackboard. “Ex-Auror. Ministry malcontent. Any questions?”

No one in class answered.

“Now, I do this class in practical approach. So, can anyone tell me how many Unforgivable curses are?”

“Three, sir.” Hermione answered without raising her hand.

Professor Moody wrote the word “3 Unforgivable” on the blackboard.

“Why are they illegal?” Theo asked as he raised his hand. Jack raised his eyebrow at him.

“Because they could torture and kill ya!” Moody growled.

“But what about a sword? I mean, they could kill you and yet they aren’t illegal.” Jack asked.

“That is not the point!” He snapped. “We are not talking about swords – although I could tell you some repulsive stories I have done with a sword…”

“I don’t mind.” Jack smirked.

“Mr. Black. Detention for you tonight.” Moody snapped. Theo elbowed Jack, telling him to shut up. “Now, back to our lesson, why are they are so named?”

“Because they are unforgivable.” Hermione answered, a little tense. “The use of any one of them will…”

“…earn you a one-way trip to Azkaban, correct.” Professor Moody nodded. “Now, do any one of you know which curses are the most heavily punished by the Wizarding law?”

Several hands rose tentatively into the air, including Ron’s and Hermione’s.

“Malfoy!” Professor Moody barked. Malfoy jumped in his seat, startled. Apparently, he was one of those who didn’t raise their hands.

“Tell me one, lad. I’m sure you know.” Moody raised his chin.

Malfoy shifted uneasily when the magical eye looked at him. He cleared his throat. “Er, the Imperius Curse.”

“Ah, yes, you would know that one. Your father said he was under it.” Moody said. Malfoy glared back as he crossed his arms, obviously he did not appreciated that last part. “Lots of dark wizards claimed that.” He opened his desk drawer and took out a glass jar. Three large black spiders were scuttling around inside it. Harry felt Ron recoil slightly next to him - Ron hated spiders. Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in the palm of his hand so that they could all see it. He then pointed his wand at it and muttered.

“ _Engorgio!_ ”

The spider grew a little bigger. Larger than a tarantula.

“ _Imperio_!”

The spider leapt from Moody’s hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing backward and forward as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs rigidly, then did a back flip, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it began to cartwheel in circles. Moody jerked his wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance.

Everyone was laughing - everyone except Moody and Jack.

“You don’t find this funny, Mr. Black?” Moody asked.

Everyone stopped laughing and the others looked curious as they looked at Jack, who had his eyebrow raised.

“No, Professor. You are making a spider doing those things by taking its will.” Jack said calmly, his face squarely met Moody’s eyes. “You are doing it under its bidding.”

Harry noticed Jack’s voice had an edge.

“You’re right. Total control.” Moody said quietly as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. “I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats…”

Ron gave an involuntary shudder.

“Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse,” Moody said as the spider jumped onto Ron’s desk. Ron lowered himself to his seat, frightened. “Now, how do we sort out those liars?”

Harry couldn’t help but glance at Malfoy, who’s face hardened but then shifted to a blank look.

“The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I’ll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone’s got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” Moody barked.

Everyone jumped. Moody picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar.

“Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?” Moody asked. Several hands rose. “Longbottom, isn’t it?”

“There’s one - the Cruciatus Curse,” Neville said quietly.

“Correct!” Moody nodded. “Come, come.” Neville moved forward to Moody’s desk. Moody set the spider on the table and pointed his wand at the creature, “The torture curse. _Crucio_!”

At once, the spider’s legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound came from it, but Harry was sure that if it could have given voice, it would have been screaming. Moody did not remove his wand, and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently - “Stop it!” Hermione said shrilly.

Neville looked pale and his body was shaking, his eyes wide. Some of the class looked pale, especially Jack. Moody raised his wand. The spider’s legs relaxed, but it continued to twitch.

“ _Reducio_ ,” Moody muttered, and the spider shrank back to its proper size. “Pain. You don’t need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse… That one was very popular once too.”

Harry looked around and saw the class tensed.

“Right… anyone know any others?”

Hermione raised her hand in the air.

“Yes?” said Moody, looking at her.

“Avada Kedavra,” Hermione whispered.

Several people looked uneasily around at her, including Ron.

“Ah,” Moody said, another slight smile twisting his lopsided mouth. “Yes, the last and worst. Avada Kedavra… the Killing Curse.” He raised his wand, and Harry felt a sudden thrill of foreboding. 

“ _Avada Kedavra_!” Moody roared.

There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible something was soaring through the air - instantaneously the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Several of the students stifled cries; Pansy shrieked, Hermione looked away, Ron shuddered, Malfoy looked tense, and Jack’s body was shaking.

Moody swept the dead spider off the desk onto the floor.

“Not nice,” he said calmly. “Not pleasant. And there’s no countercurse. There’s no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he’s sitting right in front of me.”

Harry felt his face redden as Moody’s eyes (both of them) looked into his own. He could feel everyone else looking around at him too. Harry stared at the blank blackboard as though fascinated by it, but not really seeing it at all… 

“Avada Kedavra’s a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it - you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I’d get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn’t matter. I’m not here to teach you how to do it. Now, if there’s no countercurse, why am I showing you? Because you’ve got to know. You’ve got to appreciate what the worst is. You don’t want to find yourself in a situation where you’re facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” Moody roared, and the whole class jumped again.

“Now… those three curses - Avada Kedavra, Imperius, and Cruciatus - are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That’s what you’re up against. That’s what I’ve got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice constant, never-ceasing vigilance. Get out your quills… copy this down…”

They spent the rest of the lesson taking notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses. No one spoke until the bell rang - but when Moody had dismissed them and they had left the classroom, a torrent of talk burst forth.


	4. Chapter 4

In the second week of September, the Golden Trio walked down to the Great Hall for the Dueling Club. Harry could recall the last time and it wasn't exactly the most enjoyable moment unless you counted Malfoy being hexed.

"Reckon we get a chance to duel with Malfoy?" Ron whispered, looking excited at that prospect.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Who knows?" Harry shrugged. Though he wouldn't mind dueling with Malfoy.

"No doubt everyone wants to see the Boy Who Lived duel." Ginny said as she joined with them.

Harry groaned at the thought of everyone watching him. He hated the attention!

"Who's teaching it?" Ron wondered.

"Could be Professor Moody." Ginny shrugged. "I feel sorry whoever dueled with him." The trio shivered at the idea of one of them dueling with their DADA professor. "Though I wouldn't mind Professor Snape."

"He's decent dueler." Hermione nodded. Harry couldn't help but grudgingly agree with her. Snape was much better that Lockhart. He'd pick him over than that blonde attention-seeker. And he wondered who he rather choose: Snape or Moody? Probably Moody. But then again, there would be no doubt Moody would have a surprise attack on him.

"Much better than Lockhart," Ron muttered, who seemed to read Harry's thoughts.

They entered the Great Hall and weren't surprised to see students chatting around excitedly. They hadn't had Dueling Club since their second year and they were now whispering about what spells they'd use and who they wanted to duel with.

"Why am I not surprised?" Jack muttered as he entered the Great Hall with Daphne and Theo.

"Well you have to admit, this is rather exciting aside from the Triwizard Tournament." Daphne shrugged.

"It should be. They shouldn't have an Age limit!" Theo cried.

"I don't know. I agree with Dumbledore for one thing." Jack said. "Who knows? One of us could get killed."

"Yeah. We're Slytherins. Self-Preservation, eh Theodore." Daphne grinned at Theo, who scowled.

"I bet Professor Snape teaches us!" A voice said. The trio turned around and could see Draco with Crabbe and Goyle following behind.

"I heard about what happened in second year, Draco." Jack eyed at him.

Draco scowled. "That bloody famous Potter. Who does he think he is? I would like to give a few hexes at him. Learned a few more during last summer."

"No doubt about that." Daphne muttered.

"You might duel with Mad-Eye Moody." Jack smirked. Draco glared at him.

"I'd like to see you duel with him." He snapped.

"I'd pay to see Moody and Professor Snape duel!" Pansy interrupted as she jumped to Draco's side with a smile on her face.

Jack and Theo laughed.

"Oh I would pay to see that!" Theo smiled.

"I heard Professor Snape is a little scared of him." Jack smirked. "I don't think I ever seen those two in the room together except dinner."

"Mr. Black I don't appreciate your…observation."

The Slytherins jumped and turned around and could see Professor Snape standing there with a displeased look on his face.

"Professor, you wouldn't mind dueling with Moody?" Jack smirked, his eyes filled with amusement. "I'm going to put my money on Professor Moody."

Professor Snape scowled, which just made Jack smirk wider.

"I bet 5 galleons you'll win, sir!" Draco jumped in.

"I appreciate your confidence, Mr. Malfoy." Snape said, his mouth twitched upwards.

"Come on, sir, you know Moody would blast faster than you could say Quidditch even in his sleep." Jack said, his eyes twinkled that reminded Snape so much of Dumbledore. "Say, is Magical Eye Moody teaching us?"

"Unfortunately." Snape muttered.

"Are you going to teach us sir?" Pansy asked.

"Yes Miss Parkinson." He nodded.

Everyone jumped—except Professor Snape—when the door banged open and Professor Moody strolled in. The class could hear his distinctive clunking footsteps as he walked onto the stage, his magical eye swarming around the room.

"Right then," Moody said. "I heard you haven't had Duelling Club since two years ago. I'm here because Professor Dumbledore requested me to teach you with my old friend, Snape." Snape scowled. Daphne blinked in surprised when she realized Snape had moved right behind Moody without the students noticing.

"I'm here to teach you defense spell. You must always be cautious and alert. Constant Vigilance!" he barked. "I never like when someone attack behind the opponent's back. So be prepared and pay attention closely otherwise you will be a scummy little thing."

The first and second years looked at each other uneasily.

"Now I am going to demonstrate you lads how you properly duel!" Moody said. "Remember this is a Disarming charm."

The class watched as Moody and Snape faced each other and bowed. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them. Harry noted there was some sort of spark between them, like calm before the storm. He glanced around the room and noticed Jack and Malfoy talking excitedly, something about a bet.

"Keep your eye on your opponent, you lot!" Moody barked. "Never turn your back."

"One-Two—Three—" the crowd counted.

" _Expelliarmus_!" Two cries were heard.

There was a scarlet flash. Surprisingly, Moody was the one who got blasted off his feet, though it was only a couple of inches off his original position. Harry could see Malfoy smirking as Jack handed him a few galleons.

"I want you lot to line up into two! Separate year!" He said. Everyone obeyed and Harry found himself facing a fourth year Ravenclaw girl. "Alright, I don't you lads doing any funny business. This is dueling. So you better take this seriously! No hexes. I want you all to disarm each other. Incantation is Expalliarmus, and wand movement like this." He made a wand motion. "Now on the count of three, I want you to disarm your partner. One…Two…Three..."

" _Expelliarmus_!" All the students cried.

There was a big flash of light. Harry saw his partner across the room, and he noticed some students were lying on the floor dizzy and the others were standing beaming proudly. Some with their partners standing still had their wands, probably they had said it wrong.

He saw Hermione and Ron standing with a smile on their faces. He also noticed Malfoy, Jack, Daphne, Dean and, surprisingly, Neville.

"Excellent!" Moody cried. "You lot, practice your incantation and wand movement. The rest of you lying around, you pick up your feet or you visit Madame Pomphrey." Some students left while the others stood up. "Now I will be pairing you lot. Snape! Help me here…"

Snape and Moody moved around the room, pairing up some students. Harry found himself being paired up with a Hufflepuff in his year. What was his name again? Ah, Zacharias Smith. He looked around the room and saw Hermione paired up with a Ravenclaw while Ron was paired up with Goyle. Neville with Hannah, Dean with Padma, Malfoy with Lavender, Jack with Anthony, and a couple of students who Harry didn't remember their names. He noticed there was no 1 pair who both came from the same house.

"Now line up and face with your partners!" Moody said. "We will be learning Shielding charm. You say Protego. And the wand movement is like this." Moody gave a wand motion. "First line on my left, you will be building a shield. Second line, you will cast a spell on your partner. Hex will do. No funny business. First line, you better be quick. Go!"

" _Locomotor Mortis_!" Harry cried, pointing at Smith.

Smith's legs were locked together and fell to the ground. He glared at Harry.

"Good work." Moody said as he walked around everyone. "Mr. Lopez, be quick…Miss Santos, go to the Hospital Wing… , countercurse!... stop laughing!" He barked at one of the Weasley twins.

Harry did the countercurse on his partner. Smith stood up, brushing his pants.

"Face your partners again. Those who don't have then you better pick yourselves one."

Few minutes later, every student were panting for air. Obviously tired from a long duel with their partners. Moody smirked when he saw a second year being hexed. "Before you all leave I have an announcement to make. We will be having a tournament."

Whispers filled the room.

"Open to fourth year and above so sign your name there—" he waved his wand a long parchment appeared next to him "next meeting I will be watching your progress and we will be partnering with you someone with more….equal ferocity. Winner gets the cup and a hundred points for their house. First years to third years you will be with Professor Snape in the other side of the castle next meeting."

* * *

Harry and Ron were walking down to class the next day.

"—swear they are boring than." Ron was interrupted when Harry bumped into someone.

Harry looked up and saw Jack.

"Watch where you going!" Jack snapped, his eyes blazing before he stormed off.

"What's his problem?" Ron muttered.

Harry shrugged before they walked to class.


	5. Chapter 5

Jack almost marched through the corridors. Everyone who stood in his was made a clear pathway. If he took a glance on his left he would have seen younger third year Hufflepuffs quivering at his presence.

He entered the Slytherin common room. Theo, who was by the fireplace, looked up and noticed Jack's look and changed air. Daphne looked up from her magazine and frowned. Even Draco and his friends looked up and noticed the cold look in the transferee's face.

"What happened?" Daphne asked, breaking the silence.

"Nothing."

"If you are going to be like this, at least take a swim. It always makes me feel better." She shrugged, eyes at the magazine.

"I can't swim, Daphs." Jack said distractedly as he walked to his dormitory.

He didn't notice Daphne and Theo exchanging looks. They had notice a cold edge on his voice. They would have gone after him, but they could tell he wanted to be alone.

* * *

The next day, Jack was sitting in History of Magic classroom. With a bored look as he tapped his quill on his textbox. He didn't even pay attention to what Professor Binns was discussing. Then again, it wasn't surprising the rest of his classmates with a bored look or was asleep.

He had been surprised when he first enter this classroom and found out the teacher was a ghost.

He glanced to his side and saw Daphne asleep and

He shook his head as he thought back what happened yesterday.

When the bell rang, Jack quickly shoved his book down his bag and sprinted out of the room. Theo shook Daphne, who blinked for a moment. "Where's Jack?" she asked.

"He ran out." Theo said.

Jack had been avoiding them since yesterday. They had wondered if he was upset at them. They could tell he still was. But wondered why he was upset. He had been avoiding everyone, and been very quiet in class. They only seen him when he went to bed, dinner and classes.

It was odd to see Jack like that.

* * *

"What do you think is wrong with him?!" Daphne said as she and Theo walked down the corridor. "He had been upset like that for 3 days and he's not telling us!"

"You should have seen the students face," Theo grinned. "He hexed some Gryffindors just an hour ago. And few Hufflepuffs looked scared to death!"

"Well…he's actually terrifying when he's angry. I don't think I've seen him angry." Daphne nodded.

"Yeah…Draco is actually rather impressed. Jack just beat Draco 'No one who you should messed with'." Theo said. He had seen Malfoy's impressed look when he saw the students quivering at the sight of Jack. Everyone in school could tell Jack was angry and they were scared to upset him even further, besides he's a Slytherin. And they know they should never mess with a Slytherin.

"If he keeps acting like this then I'm hunting him down." Daphne sighed.

"Hey," Theo nudged her a bit as they entered the Slytherin common room. "We could ask our housemates. We're Slytherin. We help our own. And he's one of us."

* * *

"What is wrong with the first years?" Harry asked as he looked at the first years that had boils on their faces.

"That Black hexed them," Dean answered.

"Black? You mean the new student?" Ron asked as he ate his sausage. Dean nodded. Harry could hear Ron muttering about stupid Slytherins.

"He's been in a bad mood for the past few days." Harry noted as he watched Jack grabbed his things and left the Great Hall. "Nearly hexed us off when we bumped to him."

Soon he forgotten about Jack when he started talking to Ron about Quidditch.

* * *

"Mr. Black, stay behind." Professor Snape said as the students walked out of his class. Jack sighed as he grabbed his things and muttered goodbye to his friends before walking up in front of his Head of the House.

"You want to see me, sir." Jack sighed.

"Mr. Black. I have notice the lack of effort that you should put in my class. Is there anything preventing you from doing so?" Snape said.

"Aw. I didn't expect you to care," Jack smirked. His eyes filled with amusement. But Snape was not a fool for he have notice another emotion.

Snape glared at him. "I'm the Head of your House and it is my job to help my students to be more…acceptable. Would you be so kind to explain why your proficiency in Potions has suddenly dropped to an atrociously unacceptable level?"

Jack's smirk disappeared and replaced with a tired look. "I'm sorry, sir. I was distracted. It won't happen again."

Professor Snape eyed the fourth year. He noticed the bags under the boy's eyes like he hadn't had any sleep, and his skin was a little pale like he had a nightmare. In a few days he has known the boy, Black had always mischievous and cunning and always full of laughs. It was lacking there, and there definitely wasn't a spark in that boy. Today, he looked exhausted. He had noticed his friends forcing Jack to eat breakfast.

"Leave," Snape said.

Jack nodded and left the room.

* * *

"Calm down mate," Theo said, looking at Jack who looked like he ready to rip his head off. "Seriously? You've been like this for the past four days!"

"What's got your knickers in your twist?" Draco said as he dropped himself to his bed.

"Daphne and I have been worried, and you're scaring the school!" Theo said. "And you haven't eaten anything!"

For a moment, Theo and Draco thought Jack was going to hex them but they were surprise when he took a deep breath and saw, for the first time, a  _vulnerable_  side of Jack. His eyes filled with sadness, a hint of anger and…was that resentfulness?

"I'm sorry…" Jack ran his fingers through his hair. "I just needed to…you know, let it out."

Theo nodded in acceptance, hearing the meaning behind his words. Jack wasn't going to tell him why he had been upset, but at least now Jack calmed down. He could only hope Jack went back to his usual self.

* * *

Few days passed, Jack seemed to go back to his usual self. There still wasn't a spark in him, but he was trying and whatever it was bothering him, Daphne and Theo could only hope that he'd move past it.

In the library, Draco was working on his homework when he heard a sound. He looked up and saw a smirking Jack sitting across from him. "What are you doing here, Black?" he asked as he worked on his essay, browsing at one of the books he had got from the shelves.

"Why? Can't I just see my favorite blonde Slytherin?" Jack gave him an innocent look.

"No."

"You Slytherins are boring," Jack noted.

"You happen to be in Slytherin." Draco said. Then he paused, "And we're not."

"Yeah. But I'm much more likable." Jack said cheekily.

Draco snorted. "You? Definitely not. Do you realize who you're talking to? I'm Draco Malfoy. Charming, irresistible, intelligent, witty, good-looking, rich…name a few. Also known to Hogwarts the 'Slytherin Sex God'."

"Wasn't Pansy the one who spread the rumors?" Jack frowned.

"Beats me." Then Draco's mouth twitched upwards, his eyes still on the parchment. "And I don't mind the girls looking at me. I mean, who could resist me?"

"I feel sorry whoever is stuck with you."

Draco glared at him.

"Look Black I'm working on my essay and would you kindly leave me alone!" he snapped.

Jack ignored that part as he got up and walked around the table and looked at Draco's essay. "You do realize that Emeric meant that in order to transfigure Guinea fowl to Guinea pig that you should at least focus on the physical aspects before moving to the genetic ones and that you need to concentrate on the shape first before we moved to the skin."

He sighed. "If you're so smart then why don't you help me out here?" He said sarcastically.

"I would but that would be cheating." Jack smiled. "Besides, all you need is the  _Effects and Methods in Transfiguration_  and you're set. Which I have the copy right here." He pulled out the textbook. "I'm sure a certain someone had taken the last copy in the library."

Draco had an annoyed look before he said, "All right, what is it?"

"What's what?" Jack gave him an innocent look.

"Stop giving me that look Black. You wouldn't come here unless you have an ulterior motive. And now you're offering me help? You're asking something in exchange." He eyed at him that could make Snape impressed.

"Knew you'd catch on!" Jack grinned.

Draco gave him a look. "We're Slytherins."

He ignored that part as he went back to his seat, "You know that sixth year Cowley, right?" Draco nodded. "Well, I don't appreciate getting a welcome from here in my first day. And I need your help."

"Why me?"

"Why not?" Jack shot back. "You're the Slytherin Prince, I've heard. You control your house. And like you said, you're Draco Malfoy. If anyone rules our house, it's you." He wondered if Draco noticed his manipulation tactics, but he didn't show any signs as the blonde thought for a moment. "Look, you want to finish your essay I got it right here. And you have to pass it today, huh?"

Draco scowled.

"And how do I help if I agree to this terms?"

Jack grinned widely before he leaned closer and whisper something in Draco's ears.

Draco gave him a strange look. "Alright. I agree."

"Great!" Jack shoved the  _Effects and Methods in Transfiguration_ to Draco's hand and grabbed his things and then walked away from the blonde.

"It doesn't mean we're friends Black!" Draco called, ignoring the "shush" from the librarian.

"No we're not." Jack nodded before he stopped to look at Draco over his shoulders. "Just two very cunning Slytherins having an agreement." He winked before walking out of the library.

Draco sighed before opening the book Black gave him and started working on his Transfiguration essay.

* * *

"Jack, what did you do?" Daphne said sternly as she glanced back at Cowley.

"Nothing," Jack gave her an innocent look.

"Don't give me that look Jack! I've seen that look plenty of times from Theo and it is not working on me, so what did you do?!" She nearly shrieked. Theo, who was trying to hold his laughter, burst it out. He didn't even stop when Daphne gave him a deathly look.

"Come on Daphs, it is funny." Theo said, patting her shoulder.

"How is giving Cowley wings funny?"

"Aren't you even curious what spell Jack used?"

Daphne ignored that part as she pocked, rather harshly, Jack's chest with each word. "If I see you doing that to my cousin, you are going to regret this Jackson Black!" Then she stormed off to her dormitory.

"Yikes." Theo said as Jack rubbed his chest.

"Women." Jack muttered.

"Tell me about it." Theo said then when he noticed Jack was not there in front of him. "Oi! Where are you going?"

"I'm going to see Professor Hagrid!" Jack said as he walked towards the exit of the Slytherin common room. "I promised to help him with the Skrewts."

* * *

Jack sat up on his bed and looked at his roommates. He could see them all asleep, so he quietly put on his robes and some shoes before he quietly left the room and out the dungeons, then into the Hogwarts ground.

As he walked down the field, he looked up the dark sky and could see some constellation he recognized. He sighed rather tiredly with a bit of resentful before going to the Forbidden Forest.

 


	6. Chapter 6

“What are you doing?” Hermione gave Ron and Harry a disapproved look.

“Why does it look like we’re doing Hermione we’re pranking Malfoy.” Ron said as he waved his wand and muttering an incantation. The Golden Trio looked at Malfoy, who was eating salmon.

According to Harry, Malfoy, being his usual arrogant git, had gotten Ron and him detention with Snape by messing up with their potion. Harry and Ron decided to prank Malfoy for revenge.

She shook her head as she looked back at Malfoy. And then she blinked. She rubbed her eyes, making sure she wasn’t seeing things and when she looked back at Malfoy again, she couldn’t believe it.

Malfoy’s hair wasn’t his usual sleek blonde hair, but it was ginger. The same colour as Ron’s. And it wasn’t slicked back, but a little messy. There was even freckles just beneath his eyes.

Jack, who was sitting the opposite of Malfoy, looked up from sipping his soup burst out of laughter. The Slytherins looked at his direction and gave him a weird look. Harry and Ron laughed.

“D-Draco!” Jack was clutching his stomach, almost ready to drop the floor. “Y-you...you…”

It took seconds before the Slytherin realized Malfoy’s look. Some tried to hide their snickers, but were unsuccessful. Malfoy noticed the looks he was receiving, especially from the other Houses. He looked down and noticed his reflection from his silver plate. His eyes started to blaze in anger, ready to kill whoever done this.

Hermione tried to give Harry and Ron a stern look but she end up giggling with the rest of the girls.

“Nice look Malfoy!” One of the Gryffindors said.

“Yeah, you look just like a Weasley.” Another one said.

Malfoy growled.

“Don’t worry blondie…I mean ginger,” Jack grinned as he pulled out his wand, ignoring the glare he got from his housemate. “I got this.” He muttered some spell, and soon the freckles on Malfoy’s face were gone and his hair was once again blonde, but it was still messy, but it made the girls think he was rather hot.

“You should keep that,” Pansy grinned, and it gave the some people a shiver the look on her face.

Malfoy ignored it as he scanned each tables, probably looking for the culprit.

Harry and Ron looked away and pretended to be in a normal conversation. Hermione sighed and shook her head.

The Golden Trio entered their Transfiguration class, taking their seats. They looked around the room and could see Ravenclaws entering the room. The bell rang and Professor McGonagall entered the room.

“Today we be turning a hedgehog into a pincushion.” Professor McGonagall said. She waved her wand and a hedgehog appeared in front of the student’s table. “The incantation is _Transmutare pulvinus.”_

The fourth years sighed as they muttered the incantation. Few minutes passed, the class had the bored looks on their faces—except Hermione who had an anticipation look on her face. They all groaned when Professor McGonagall gave them homework.

“But Professor, that’s too much work!” one of the Gryffindors said.

“You are now entering a most important phase of your magical education!” Professor McGonagall told them, her eyes glinting dangerously behind her square spectacles. “Your Ordinary Wizarding Levels are drawing closer —”

“We don’t take O.W.L.s till fifth year!” said Dean Thomas indignantly.

“Maybe not, Thomas, but believe me, you need all the preparation you can get! Miss Granger remains the only person in this class who has managed to turn a hedgehog into a satisfactory pincushion. I might remind you that your pincushion, Thomas, still curls up in fright if anyone approaches it with a pin!”

Hermione looked pleased when she heard that.

Few days had passed and Malfoy pestered the Golden Trio and had decided to make a bet by playing Quidditch. Let’s just say the winner of the bet was enthusiastic when he won.

“I can’t believe they won,” Ron muttered to Harry as Malfoy and his team cheered joyfully when they won the bet. “I bet they cheated.”

Harry glanced back and could see Malfoy with a pleased look on his face. He frowned when he noticed Jack clutching his left arm but was soon distracted when Ron complained about how they lost the bet. Harry wrote a letter to Sirius and tried to convince him that he was fine and that he didn’t need Sirius to come.

Few weeks had passed and it was soon October. The fourth years complained about too much homework. Harry and Ron still had to work on their Dream Diary for Divination by inventing some crap vision. During dinner, Harry noticed Dumbledore not present and he had been disappearing a lot of times.

Hermione had kept going to the library everyday, Harry and Ron had asked Ernie to help them with their homework. Professor Snape was being his usual self, and Professor Flitwick advised them to read the three books he had suggested to prepare for the Summoning Charm. Classes became demanding.

They were surprised when Professor Moody announced that he would be putting an Imperius Curse on each of them in turn.

“But - but you said it’s illegal, Professor,” Hermione protested as Moody cleared away the desks with a sweep of his wand, leaving a large clear space in the middle of the room. “You said to use it against another human was -”

“Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like,” Moody said, his magical eye swiveling onto Hermione and fixing her with an eerie, unblinking stare. “If you’d rather learn the hard way when someone’s putting it on you so they can control you completely - fine by me. You’re excused. Off you go.” He pointed one gnarled finger toward the door. Hermione went very pink and muttered something about not meaning that she wanted to leave. Harry and Ron grinned at each other. They knew Hermione would rather eat bubotuber pus than miss such an important lesson.

“Professor,” Jack raised his hand with a bored look as Theo and Daphne glanced at each other with uncertainty. “What are going to do to us?”

“Let’s see shall we. Why don’t you go first Mr. Black?” Moody said, beckoning the teenage to come forward.

Jack looked a little alarm and uncertain before he adopted a resigned look as he went forward. The whole class watched as Moody pointed his wand at him, “ _Imperio_!”

Jack had a glassy look on his face. At first he did nothing at the moment, and Harry could see Jack was trying to fight the curse off for a few moments before Jack started jumping around the room.

Moody shook his head as Jack blinked rapidly, shaking his head. “Impressive Mr. Black. You manage to hold it off less than a minute.” He turned to the class. “You see that! Black fought it off. Now why don’t we watch closely again.”

“No thanks Professor.” Jack shivered the idea of Moody putting him in an Imperius curse. “I’ll pass.” He joined his friends.

“You next Malfoy!” He suddenly barked, making the class jumped. Malfoy had a startled look, obviously he was talking to his friends till Moody called him. He started muttering something along the lines “my father will hear about this”. Harry was entertained to see Malfoy imitating a dog. Then Dean hopping three times around the room, singing the national anthem. Lavender Brown imitated a squirrel. Neville performed a series of quite astonishing gymnastics he would certainly not have been capable of in his normal state.

Soon, Harry was next. He stepped forward in the middle of the room, a little nervous.

“ _Imperio_!” Moody said.

It was the most wonderful feeling. Harry felt a floating sensation as every thought and worry in his head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. He stood there feeling immensely relaxed, only dimly aware of everyone watching him. And then he heard Mad-Eye Moody’s voice, echoing in some distant chamber of his empty brain: _Jump onto the desk… jump onto the desk…_  

Harry managed to fight the curse off just _a bit_.

“Now, that’s more like it!” Moody said, with a pleased look on his face as Harry had a pained look on his face from hitting his knee on the desk. “Look at that, you lot… Potter fought! He fought it, and he damn near beat it! We’ll try that again, Potter, and the rest of you, pay attention - watch his eyes, that’s where you see it - very good, Potter, very good indeed! They’ll have trouble controlling you!”

The bell rang, and the class started to gather their things.

“Mr. Black, I like you stay.” Moody called.

Harry looked back and could see Jack whispering something to Theo and Daphne before he went up to Moody. He shook his head and followed Ron to their next class.


	7. Chapter 7

A week passed and Harry and his friends entered the Great Hall for Dueling Club. It was interesting for Harry as he duel with a Ravenclaw. Hermione looked pleased when she fought off with a Slytherin.

Another day passed, and it was soon their Care of Magical Creatures class. All of the Slytherin—except Jack—complained when Hagrid had given them a project by assigning them with partners. Though Jack soon looked a little disturbed when he was partnered up with Pansy. Harry was pleased when he was partnered with Hermione and Ron was partnered with Goyle. The class listened as Hagrid suggested that they come down to his hut on alternate evenings to observe the skrewts and make notes on their extraordinary behavior.

Malfoy complained about it, and Hagrid had to shut him off by moving Malfoy with Jack and Pansy since Malfoy was the only one without a partner.

The class ended and the Golden Trio arrived in the entrance hall, and saw a large crowd of students milling around a large sign that had been erected at the foot of the marble stairs.

“What’s going on?” Harry wondered.

Ron, the tallest of the three, stood on tiptoe to see over the heads in front of them and read the sign aloud to the other two:

_TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT_

_THE DELEGATIONS FROM BEAUXBATONS AND DURMSTRANG WILL BE ARRIVING AT 6 O’CLOCK ON FRIDAY THE 30TH OF OCTOBER. LESSONS WILL END HALF AN HOUR EARLY –_

“Yes!” Harry smiled.  “It’s Potions last thing on Friday! Snape won’t have time to poison us all!”

_STUDENTS WILL RETURN THEIR BAGS AND BOOKS TO THEIR DORMITORIES AND ASSEMBLE IN FRONT OF THE CASTLE TO GREET OUR GUESTS BEFORE THE WELCOMING FEAST._

“Only a week away!” said Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff, emerging from the crowd, his eyes gleaming. “I wonder if Cedric knows? Think I’ll go and tell him…”

“Cedric?” Ron frowned with a blank look on his face.

“Diggory,” Harry said. “He must be entering the tournament.”

“That idiot, Hogwarts champion?” Ron said as they pushed their way through the chattering crowd toward the staircase.

“He’s not an idiot. You just don’t like him because he beat Gryffindor at Quidditch,” Hermione said as she shook her head. “I’ve heard he’s a really good student - and he’s a prefect.” She spoke as though this settled the matter.

“You only like him because he’s handsome,” said Ron scathingly.

“Excuse me, I don’t like people just because they’re handsome!” said Hermione indignantly.

Ron gave a loud false cough, which sounded oddly like “Lockhart!”

When they went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, they found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffiindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers’ table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down beside Fred and George at the Gryffindor table. Once again, and most unusually, they were sitting apart from everyone else and conversing in low voices. Ron led the way over to them. 

“It’s a bummer, all right,” George was saying gloomily to Fred. “But if he won’t talk to us in person, we’ll have to send him the letter after all. Or we’ll stuff it into his hand. He can’t avoid us forever.”

“Who’s avoiding you?” said Ron, sitting down next to them.

“Wish you would,” said Fred, looking irritated at the interruption.

“What’s a bummer?” Ron asked George.

“Having a nosy git like you for a brother,” said George.

“You two got any ideas on the Triwizard Tournament yet?” Harry asked. “Thought any more about trying to enter?”

“I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen but she wasn’t telling,” said George bitterly. “She just told me to shut up and get on with transfiguring my raccoon.”

“Wonder what the tasks are going to be?” said Ron thoughtfully. “You know, I bet we could do them, Harry. We’ve done dangerous stuff before…”

“Not in front of a panel of judges, you haven’t,” said Fred. “McGonagall says the champions get awarded points according to how well they’ve done the tasks.”

“Who are the judges?” Harry asked.

“Well, the Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel,” said Hermione, and everyone looked around at her, rather surprised, “because all three of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792, when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on the rampage.” 

She noticed them all looking at her and said, with her usual air of impatience that nobody else had read all the books she had, “It’s all in Hogwarts, A History. Though, of course, that book’s not entirely reliable. A Revised History of Hogwarts would be a more accurate title. Or A Highly Biased and Selective History of Hogwarts, Which Glosses Over the Nastier Aspects of the School.”

“What are you on about?” Ron frowned.

Harry shook his head. He knew Hermione was going to start saying about House elves as he ate his scrambled eggs. Hermione had been rattling around the Gryffindor room about SPEW.

Harry looked up when he saw his owl, Hedwig, soaring toward him. Hermione stopped talking abruptly; she and Ron watched Hedwig anxiously as she fluttered down onto Harry’s shoulder, folded her wings, and held out her leg wearily.

Harry pulled off Sirius’s reply and offered Hedwig his bacon rinds, which she ate gratefully. Then, checking that Fred and George were safely immersed in further discussions about the Triwizard Tournament, Harry read out Sirius’s letter in a whisper to Ron and Hermione.

_Nice try, Harry._

_I’m back in the country and well hidden. I want you to keep me posted on everything that’s going on at Hogwarts. Don’t use Hedwig, keep changing owls, and don’t worry about me, just watch out for yourself. Don’t forget what I said about your scar._

_Sirius_

“Why d’you have to keep changing owls?” Ron asked in a low voice.

“Hedwig’ll attract too much attention,” said Hermione at once. “She stands out. A snowy owl that keeps returning to wherever he’s hiding… I mean, they’re not native birds, are they?”

Harry rolled up the letter and slipped it inside his robes, wondering whether he felt more or less worried than before. He supposed that Sirius managing to get back without being caught was something. He couldn’t deny either that the idea that Sirius was much nearer was reassuring; at least he wouldn’t have to wait so long for a response every time he wrote.

“Thanks, Hedwig,” he said, stroking her. She hooted sleepily, dipped her beak briefly into his goblet of orange juice, then took off again, clearly desperate for a good long sleep in the Owlery.

There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air that day. Nobody was very attentive in lessons, being much more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang; even Potions was more bearable than usual, as it was half an hour shorter.

When the bell rang early, Harry, Ron, and Hermione hurried up to Gryffindor Tower, deposited their bags and books as they had been instructed, pulled on their cloaks, and rushed back downstairs into the entrance hall.

The Heads of Houses were ordering their students into lines.

“Weasley, straighten your hat,” Professor McGonagall snapped at Ron. “Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair.”

 Parvati scowled and removed a large ornamental butterfly from the end of her plait.

“Follow me, please,” said Professor McGonagall. “First years in front… no pushing…”  They filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening; dusk was falling and a pale, transparent-looking moon was already shining over the Forbidden Forest. Harry, standing between Ron and Hermione in the fourth row from the front, saw Dennis Creevey positively shivering with anticipation among the other first years.

“Nearly six,” said Ron, checking his watch and then staring down the drive that led to the front gates. “How d’you reckon they’re coming? The train?”

“I doubt it,” said Hermione.

“How, then? Broomsticks?” Harry suggested, looking up at the starry sky.

“I don’t think so… not from that far away…”

“A Portkey?” Ron suggested. “Or they could Apparate - maybe you’re allowed to do it under seventeen wherever they come from?”

“You can’t Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds, how often do I have to tell you?” said Hermione impatiently.

They scanned the darkening grounds excitedly, but nothing was moving; everything was still, silent, and quite as usual. Harry was starting to feel cold. He wished they’d hurry up… Maybe the foreign students were preparing a dramatic entrance… He remembered what Mr. Weasley had said back at the campsite before the Quidditch World Cup: “always the same - we can’t resist showing off when we get together…”

And then Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers –

“Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!”

“Where?” said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions. 

“There!” yelled a sixth year, pointing over the forest.

Something large, much larger than a broomstick - or, indeed, a hundred broomsticks - was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time.

“It’s a dragon!” shrieked one of the first years, losing her head completely.

“Don’t be stupid… it’s a flying house!” said Dennis Creevey.

Dennis’s guess was closer… As the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, they saw a gigantic, powderblue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring toward them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.

The front three rows of students drew backward as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed - then, with an almighty crash that made Neville jump backward onto a Slytherin fifth year’s foot, the horses’ hooves, larger than dinner plates, hit the ground. A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes.

Harry just had time to see that the door of the carriage bore a coat of arms (two crossed, golden wands, each emitting three stars) before it opened. A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forward, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. Then Harry saw a shining, high-heeled black shoe emerging from the inside of the carriage - a shoe the size of a child’s sled - followed, almost immediately, by the largest woman he had ever seen in his life. The size of the carriage, and of the horses, was immediately explained. A few people gasped.

Harry had only ever seen one person as large as this woman in his life, and that was Hagrid; he doubted whether there was an inch difference in their heights. Yet somehow - maybe simply because he was used to Hagrid - this woman (now at the foot of the steps, and looking around at the waiting, wide-eyed crowd) seemed even more unnaturally large. As she stepped into the light flooding from the entrance hall, she was revealed to have a handsome, olive-skinned face; large, black, liquid-looking eyes; and a rather beaky nose. Her hair was drawn back in a shining knob at the base of her neck. She was dressed from head to foot in black satin, and many magnificent opals gleamed at her throat and on her thick fingers.

Dumbledore started to clap; the students, following his lead, broke into applause too, many of them standing on tiptoe, the better to look at this woman. Her face relaxed into a gracious smile and she walked forward toward Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself, had barely to bend to kiss it.

“My dear Madame Maxime,” he said. “Welcome to Hogwarts.”

“Dumbly-dort,” said Madame Maxime in a deep voice. “I ‘ope I find you well?”

“In excellent form, I thank you,” said Dumbledore.

“My pupils,” said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her.

Harry, whose attention had been focused completely upon Madame Maxime, now noticed that about a dozen boys and girls, all, by the look of them, in their late teens, had emerged from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxime. They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them were wearing cloaks. A few had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads. From what Harry could see of them (they were standing in Madame Maxime’s enormous shadow), they were staring up at Hogwarts with apprehensive looks on their faces. 

“’As Karkaroff arrived yet?” Madame Maxime asked. “He should be here any moment,” said Dumbledore. “Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?”

“Warm up, I think,” said Madame Maxime. “But ze ‘orses -”

“Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them,” said Dumbledore, “the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen

with some of his other - er - charges.”

“Skrewts,” Ron muttered to Harry, grinning.

“My steeds require - er - forceful ‘andling,” said Madame Maxime, looking as though she doubted whether any Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts could be up to the job. “Zey are very strong…”

“I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job,” said Dumbledore, smiling. 

“Very well,” said Madame Maxime, bowing slightly. “Will you please inform zis ‘Agrid zat ze ‘orses drink only single-malt whiskey?”

“It will be attended to,” said Dumbledore, also bowing.

“Come,” said Madame Maxime imperiously to her students, and the Hogwarts crowd parted to allow her and her students to pass up the stone steps.

“How big d’you reckon Durmstrang’s horses are going to be?” Seamus Finnigan said, leaning around Lavender and Parvati to address Harry and Ron.

“Well, if they’re any bigger than this lot, even Hagrid won’t be able to handle them,” said Harry.

“That’s if he hasn’t been attacked by his skrewts. Wonder what’s up with them?”

“Maybe they’ve escaped,” said Ron hopefully.

“Oh don’t say that,” said Hermione with a shudder. “Imagine that lot loose on the grounds…”

They stood, shivering slightly now, waiting for the Durmstrang party to arrive. Most people were gazing hopefully up at the sky.

For a few minutes, the silence was broken only by Madame Maxime’s huge horses snorting and stamping. But then - “Can you hear something?” said Ron suddenly. Harry listened; a loud and oddly eerie noise was drifting toward them from out of the darkness: a muffled rumbling and sucking sound, as though an immense vacuum cleaner were moving along a riverbed.

“The lake!” yelled Lee Jordan, pointing down at it. “Look at the lake!”

From their position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, they had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water - except that the surface was suddenly not smooth at all. Some disturbance was taking place deep in the center; great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were now washing over the muddy banks - and then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake’s floor… What seemed to be a long, black pole began to rise slowly out of the heart of the whirlpool… and then Harry saw the rigging… 

“It’s a mast!” he said to Ron and Hermione.

Slowly, magnificently, the ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it were a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide toward the bank. A few moments later, they heard the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank.

People were disembarking; they could see their silhouettes passing the lights in the ship’s portholes. All of them, Harry noticed, seemed to be built along the lines of Crabbe and Goyle… but then, as they drew nearer, walking up the lawns into the light streaming from the entrance hall, he saw that their bulk was really due to the fact that they were wearing cloaks of some kind of shaggy, matted fur. But the man who was leading them up to the castle was wearing furs of a different sort:  sleek and silver, like his hair.

“Dumbledore!” he called heartily as he walked up the slope. “How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?”

“Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff,” Dumbledore replied. Karkaroff had a fruity, unctuous voice; when he stepped into the light pouring from the front doors of the castle they saw that he was tall and thin like Dumbledore, but his white hair was short, and his goatee (finishing in a small curl) did not entirely hide his rather weak chin. When he reached Dumbledore, he shook hands with both of his own.

“Dear old Hogwarts,” he said, looking up at the castle and smiling; his teeth were rather yellow, and Harry noticed that his smile did not extend to his eyes, which remained cold and shrewd. “How good it is to be here, how good… Viktor, come along, into the warmth… you don’t mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold…”

Karkaroff beckoned forward one of his students. As the boy passed, Harry caught a glimpse of a prominent curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He didn’t need the punch on the arm Ron gave him, or the hiss in his ear, to recognize that profile. 

“Harry - it’s Krum!”


	8. Chapter 8

The Slytherins walked to the Great Hall with the rest of the houses. Jack could see some of his housemates excited even though they hid it well. He’d give them that. Theo and Draco were talking excitedly about Victor Krum, the famous Quidditch player. Jack had to admit, he did admire and idolized him.

“Do you suppose he’d notice me?” Daphne whispered to one of her roommates.

Theo and Jack shared a look and rolled their eyes at the same time. Jack could already see the girls admiring Krum, who was with his schoolmates. They slowly watched as Beauxbaton entered the Great Hall with a…graceful performance.

“Who is she?” Theo had a gleeful look as he eyed at someone.

Jack followed his gaze and saw a beautiful girl. Judging by her uniform, she’s from Beauxbaton. She was sitting at the Ravenclaw table with her schoolmates. He took a look at her appearance. She was tall and willowy. A blonde silvery hair that was almost like Draco’s hair. Fair skin and deep blue eyes.

Taking a look around the room, Jack snorted when he realized almost all the male population were eyeing at her with interest and maybe…desire?

 _A Veela, huh,_ Jack thought. Then he took another look at the students, and concluded, _Or maybe part-Veela._

“I don’t know, Theo,” Jack chuckled when he noticed Daphne’s annoyed look on her face.

“Whoah! Look at her!” Theo said. Jack followed where his finger was pointed and was a little surprised to see the tallest woman he had ever seen. She’s even taller than Hagrid. Probably a foot or two. “Who’s she?”

“Madame Maxime.” Daphne answered. “She’s the Headmistress of Beauxbaton.”

“Ugh.” Pansy made a face. “Look at her. I bet she’s perfect for that stupid oaf.” She pointed at Hagrid.

Jack narrowed his eyes and was about to protest but Draco said, “I’m glad my father didn’t plan for me to study there. Look at their uniforms.” Draco grimaced as Crabbe and Goyle nodded in agreement.

“You’d look horrible in blue,” Jack grinned. “What about pink?”

Draco glared at him. “I bet it looks much better with you.”

“I look amazing in any colours,” Jack grinned cheekily as he laid both his hands behind his head. He winked at the girls who were listening to him as Theo laughed.

Daphne, who was sitting between Jack and Theo, slapped both of their shoulders. The boys winced as Daphne said, “Stop it you two!”

“Ouch! Daphs, knock it off.” Theo said.

“Until you behave. We’re not supposed to act immature.” Daphne said.

“Immature is my middle name.” Jack said. Daphne glared at him. “OK, okay, sheesh Daphne. Where’s your sense of humor?”

“Since when does she have one?” Pansy snorted. Daphne scowled.                                                                                                                                                      

“Look, here they come!” Crabbe said enthusiastically. The students watched as the Durmstrang entered the Great Hall with a great performance. Jack was impressed as Krum entered with his headmaster, Karkaroff. He could hear the girls whispering and the boys talking excitedly.

“It’s Viktor Krum!” Jack could hear his housemates saying something like that. He could also see Daphne trying to compose herself by acting not like one of those fangirls, but Jack could see the excitement in her eyes.

“I hope he sits here,” Daphne said. Jack nearly jumped when the girls squealed as the Durmstrang students, including Viktor, decided to settle themselves at their table. Krum took a seat next to Jack. He could have sworn Daphne froze when Viktor’s shoulder brushed against her.

Draco looked smug as he leaned forward to talk to Krum.

“Hello! Welcome to Hogwarts,” Draco grinned. “I’m Draco Malfoy.”

“Pansy Parkinson,” Pansy said, who sat next to Draco, batted her eyelashes.

“You can call me Theo.” Theo said, his eyes dancing with excitement.

“I’m Daphne. Daphne Greengrass.” Daphne held out her hand. She nearly blushed when Krum took it and kissed her hand.

“Jack.” That was all Jack said.

The whole room went silent as the headmasters stood in front of them. Dumbledore was standing in the middle, in his right was Madame Maxime and on his left was Karkaroff.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most particularly - guests,” said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. “I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable.”

Jack looked in the corner of his eyes and could see some of the Durmstrang students eyeing their plates.

“The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast,” said Dumbledore. “I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!” The headmasters took their seats as the plates were filled with food as usual.

Jack ate his food as his housemates talked with Krum. But he would usually engage with them. Jack found himself engaging a conversation with Krum and both seem to realize they have something in common and enjoyed their company.

“Hey Jack.”

Jack turned around and saw Jenny Perks with her best friend. She was Sally-Anne’s little sister. He nearly groaned at the sight of her as Theo snickered.

“Hey Jenny,” Jack gave her a friendly smile.

“I was wondering since Hogsmeade is coming next week and…” Jenny’s face went red and Jack could feel his face reddened. “I was wondering if you would like to come with me to Hogsmeade?”

Jack wasn’t sure how to reply to that. He knew that Jenny had a crush on him since the first day he came to Hogwarts. And while he was flattered to see some girls thinking he was charming and handsome, he wasn’t interested in dating one of them.

“Jenny…um,” He cleared his throat as he ignored the boys behind him snickering. “That is very flattering, but I’m not coming to Hogsmeade. I don’t have a permission slip.” He gave her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry Jenny.”

“Oh!” Jenny looked embarrassed and disappointed. “It’s OK Jack. Come on Astoria,” she dragged her best friend back to their seats.

Theo chuckled. “Aw! Jack, you broken her heart. I don’t think Sally’s going to appreciate that.”

“I don’t think she’d appreciate me going with her little sister,” Jack eyed at Sally, who sat a few seat away from Jack. She was glaring at him as she struck her fork down her steak. Jack could see Sally imagining the steak as him. Sally was one of the few Slytherins who didn’t like him and find him annoying.

It wasn’t his fault that his prank somehow got her bald!

Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. Jack frowned a bit as the whole room went silent again.

“The moment has come,” said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. “The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation.”

Jack clapped politely along with his housemates and other houses.

“and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.” Dumbledore continued.

People clapped louder for Bagman, who gave them a jovial wave.

“Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament,” Dumbledore continued, “and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions’ efforts.”

At the mention of the word “champions,” the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, “The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch.”

Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. Jack could hear a murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students.

“The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman,” said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, “and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways… their magical prowess - their daring - their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger.”

At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing. Even Jack.

“As you know, three champions compete in the tournament,” Dumbledore went on calmly, “one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire.”

Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. And Jack watched as the lid creaked slowly open and Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large cup with blue-white flames.

The headmaster closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall. 

“Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet,” said Dumbledore. “Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

“To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation,” said Dumbledore, “I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line. 

“Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all.”

“I can’t wait to see people trying to get pass the Age line!” Jack laughed as the Slytherins made their way across the Hall to the doors into the entrance hall. He wouldn’t put it past Dumbledore to have a little payback to those who stepped over the line underage. He was mostly looking forward to that at the moment. He was also curious about the challenges.

Daphne rolled her eyes. Then she scowled when she noticed Theo staring at the blonde girl he was eying at earlier. She slapped his shoulder and Theo winced and gave her a glare. Jack chuckled, shaking his head.

“Where are you going Draco?” Jack asked. He noticed Draco was heading to the opposite direction where the Slytherins were going.

Draco glared. “It’s none of your business.”

Jack raised his eyebrow as Draco walked away. He shook his head and joined with his friends.

* * *

 

Jack walked into the Great Hall with Theo and Daphne early in the morning. When they went down, they notice at least 25 students were there. Some were eating their breakfast and some were examining the Goblet of Fire that was standing in the center of the hall on the stool that usually bore the Sorting Hat. There was a thin golden line had been traced on the floor, forming a circle ten feet around it in every direction. He eyed with interest as he took a seat together with his friends.

“So who put their names?” Jack asked the fifth years that were seating close to him.

“All of the Durmstrang.” A fifth year said.

“Anyone in Beauxbaton?” Theo asked.

They shook their head.

“What about Hogwarts?” Jack wondered.

“No one yet.” A sixth year said.

“Who do you think is joining?” Jack asked. The sixth year was about to open his mouth but was interrupted by those red-headed twins and a friend with them. Jack couldn’t recall their names. He knew just by looking at their hair that they were siblings to Ron, and he had heard from Crabbe and Goyle that they were famous for their pranks.

His eyebrow raised when he saw the red-headed twins excited look as they whispered something to the Golden Trio. Then one of the twins pulled out a parchment out of his pocket and walked right up to the edge of the line and stood there, rocking on his toes like a diver preparing for a fifty-foot drop.

Jack noticed the whole room went silent, their eyes at the twin. He watched as the twin took a great breath and stepped over the line.

He wondered why people looked like the twin was going to receive his worst. Wasn’t he a seventh year? Jack thought.

“But he’s sixteen!” Daphne hissed.

“Maybe the famous red heads use those Aging potions, I’ve heard.” Theo said as the other twin joined in with the twin. “I guess the old coot’s spell didn’t work.”

“But it’s Dumbledore! Surely…” Daphne said but stopped when they heard a loud sizzling sound. The Slytherins watched as both twins were thrown out of the golden circle as though they had been thrown by an invisible shot-putter. They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor.

Jack couldn’t help but burst out of laughter when he saw the twins had sprouted identical long white beards and their red hair gone and replaced with white hair. The hall rang with laughter as the twins started to wrestle each other.

“You said!”

“You said!”

“Oh, right, you want a piece of me?”

“I’ll tear your ears off!”

“Now you’re making me laugh!”

“Take this! Come on!”

“We’re old school, right?”

“Yeah, but you look older!”

People had started to chant “Fight! Fight!” Even Jack joining in. Draco, who had joined with them a few minutes ago, rolled his eyes and muttered something about brutal Gryffindors but even he, as a Slytherin, couldn’t help but be amuse at the sight of him.

“I did warn you,” said a deep, amused voice.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned around to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall. His eyes twinkled as he surveyed the twins.

“I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours.”

Jack chuckled as he watched the twins set off for the hospital wing. He turned to his friends and grinned, “That was terrific!”

“Brilliant!” Theo matched his grin.

Daphne rolled her eyes.

“So who do you think is joining for Hogwarts?” Jack wondered.

“Better be Slytherin.” Theo said as he took a bite of his breakfast.

“I heard Warrington joined up.” Draco said, not looking up.

Jack scowled. He didn’t exactly like Warrington since he saw him messing up with the first years, and he personally couldn’t see Warrington the champion of the Triwizard Tournament. Warrington was a seventh-year Slytherin.

He then put up his signature smirk, hiding his distaste. “Well, I suppose I wish him luck if he is pick out.”

They continued to talk and sometimes watch other people placing a parchment into the Goblet of Fire, especially those Beauxbaton students. Jack stood up and said, “Hey guys, I’ll see you in lunch.”

“Where are you heading?” Theo asked.

“Library.” Jack said as he walked out of the Great Hall and to the library, ready for a long research.

Few hours passed, Jack was writing his essay when Theo came to pick him up for lunch. They both entered the hall and Jack’s eyes wandered at the Goblet of Fire. His attention turned back to his friends as he joined with the Slytherins.

“So?” Jack said.

“Almost half the boys in Slytherins, seventh years that is, put their names up.” Daphne answered. “Couple of Ravenclaws. Some Gryffindor, and all those Hufflepuffs,” she grimace at that name. “talk about is Diggory.”

“Who’s Diggory?”

“Hufflepuff Seeker. Over there!” Theo nodded his head. Jack followed his eyes and saw dark-haired seventh year with chiseled features.

“Do you think Slytherins have a chance to be the Hogwart’s champion?” Jack asked.

“Of course!” Theo said, his face indignant. “We’re going to win this!”

“Even if it is Warrington?” Jack raised his eyebrow. Draco and Pansy exchanged looks and shrugged. They honestly didn’t care much about the Triwizard Tournament, but they’d still support their housemates if they’d be the Hogwart’s champion.

“I don’t suppose you support Diggory,” Pansy grimaced.

“Better than a Gryffindor.” Draco muttered.

“So what is the Triwizard’s task going to be like?” Jack asked. His year mates exchanged looks before explaining some dangerous task they heard a few years back. Jack nodded with a thoughtful look.

“Where are you going?” Daphne asked as they watched Jack got up.

Jack didn’t answer as he pulled out something out of his pocket. It was a parchment. He stopped in front of the Goblet of Fire. Everyone’s eyes were at him and Jack could hear the whispers something along the lines that he was a fourth year and he was not seventeen years old.

He stepped over the line, and could hear the whole room went silent. Almost everyone was holding their breaths. Jack placed the parchment on the Goblet of Fire and watched as the blue-white flames turned red and emitted sparks.

When Jack turned around, he saw everyone’s face were shocked and whispers were once again filled in the room. Some jaws were dropped, some were confused, and some were angry. Jack just casually sauntered back and sat beside his housemates, completely ignoring the look on the student’s faces.

“Jack, how the hell did you do that?” Theo asked.

Jack looked up and could still see the shock look on his housemates faces.

“It’s impossible for anyone to get pass the age line!” Daphne said.

“I’m actually 17 years old.” Jack admitted.

“What?! And you didn’t think you’d tell us!” Theo said.

“And you’re a fourth year.” Pansy said.

“Look,” Jack sighed as he pushed his plate away. “Your education is a lot different than where I came from. And I’m kind of behind here.” He had taken a test before he attended Hogwarts and the Ministry decided to place him in fourth year.

“Maybe we have a chance after all,” Crabbe said after the long silence. The Slytherins stared at him.

* * *

 

“Why don’t you do the work?” Draco muttered as they entered the castle, their uniforms wet from the rain.

Pansy cast herself and the boys a dry charm.

Jack raised his eyebrow. “You do realize Hagrid did say it’s a _group_ project. All of us have to do it equally.” He grimaced a bit. Pansy raised her eyebrow. _That isn’t like Jack_ , she thought. Then he smirked, “I wouldn’t miss to see your face though.”

 _That’s Jack,_ Pansy thought.

Draco glared at him as they entered the candlelit Great Hall. They had decided to their projects in Care of Magical Creature and they would meet up at least once a week. Draco was disgusted as usual, and Pansy wouldn’t dare touch it in fear it would ruin her nails. It was decided Jack did the practical work while Draco and Pansy wrote down their observation.

They looked up and noticed the Goblet of Fire had been moved and was now standing in front of Dumbledore’s empty chair at the teacher’s table. They joined their housemates.

 _Today’s the day,_ Jack thought.

They ate their meals and talked to their friends.

“I bet Clivesworth!” one of the Slytherins said.

“No, got to be Bole.” Another Slytherin said.

The Slytherins had started to bet who would be the Hogwarts champion. Of course, they all betted someone from their house.

Soon, Dumbledore spoke up when their plates and goblets vanished. “Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision. I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions’ names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber” - he indicated the door behind the staff table - “where they will be receiving their first instructions.”

Jack was little nervous and wondered if he was going to be picked. He watched as Dumbledore took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting.

Jack looked past the Goblet of Fire and looked at the window just behind the teacher’s table, thinking about the forest.

His thoughts were snapped out when Theo nudged him and Dumbledore cried out, “…will be Viktor Krum!”

There was an applause and cheering swept the hall. Jack didn’t pay attention to it again when the view outside the window distracted him, something about it…

“Oi!” Theo nudged him again as Dumbledore cried out, “…Fleur Delacour!”

Jack shook his head and decided to pay attention to the selection ceremony. Pushing all his thoughts everything about the forest, Jack watched as the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.

“The Hogwarts champion,” Dumbledore called, “is Jack Black!”

Jack’s eyes nearly popped out as the Slytherins cheered loudly, congratulating him and patting their backs as the other Houses gave him a polite applause. He could see Theo and Daphne giving him an encourage smile as Jack got up and headed towards the chamber behind the teacher’s table.

Jack placed his hand on the door knob and gave everyone a small nervous smile before he entered the room.

“Hey!” Jack grinned at Fleur and Krum, who were both in the room.

“So you’re ze Hogwarz champion?” Fleur asked.

“Yup!” Jack’s grin widened as he joined with them by the fire. “We’re going to have some fun!”

The door opened and Jack was surprised when Harry Potter entered the room.


	9. Chapter 9

Harry could say he was surprised when he heard Jack was the Hogwarts champion. He had heard that Jack was actually seventeen years old. Ron wasn't exactly happy when he heard a Slytherin was chosen.

Anyway, it was nothing compare to how shock he was right now when the cup glow and another sheet of paper was thrown out and Dumbledore snatched it and said, "Harry Potter". Everyone's eyes turned to him. He was stunned. He felt numbed. He was surely dreaming. He had not heard correctly.

There was no applause, no surprise there.

He was soon told to go to the room where the other champions left. He entered and saw Viktor, Fleur, and Jack by the fire. They had first thought Harry was delivering them a message, but before Harry could reply there was a sound of scurrying feet behind him, and Ludo Bagman entered the room.

He took Harry by the arm and led him forward.

"Extraordinary!" he muttered, squeezing Harry's arm. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen… lady," he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the other three. "May I introduce - incredible though it may seem - the fourth Triwizard champion?"

Viktor Krum straightened up. His surly face darkened as he surveyed Harry. Jack had a disbelief look on his face. Fleur Delacour, however, tossed her hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."

"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"

Krum's thick eyebrows contracted slightly. Jack and Fleur frowned.

"But…he can't be," Jack said, shaking his head.

"Zair 'as been a mistake," Fleur said contemptuously to Bagman. "E cannot compete. 'E is too young."

"Well… it is amazing," said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and smiling down at Harry. "But, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name's come out of the goblet… I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage… It's down in the rules, you're obliged… Harry will just have to do the best he —"

The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in: Professor Dumbledore, followed closely by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape. Harry heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall, before Professor McGonagall closed the door.

"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!"

Somewhere under Harry's numb disbelief he felt a ripple of anger.  _Little boy_? Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. The top of her handsome head brushed the candle-filled chandelier, and her gigantic black-satin bosom swelled.

"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she said imperiously.

"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions – or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"

He gave a short and nasty laugh.

"C'est impossible," said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting upon Fleur's shoulder. "Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions. It is most injust."

"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."

"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," said Snape softly. His black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here -"

"Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore firmly, and Snape went quiet, though his eyes still glinted malevolently through his curtain of greasy black hair. He was upset that Potter was there, especially when one of his students from his house had a chance. Slytherin!

Professor Dumbledore was now looking down at Harry, who looked right back at him, trying to discern the expression of the eyes behind the half-moon spectacles.

"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asked calmly.

"No," said Harry. He was very aware of everybody watching him closely. Snape made a soft noise of impatient disbelief in the shadows.

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" said Professor Dumbledore, ignoring Snape.

"No," said Harry vehemently.

"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Snape was now shaking his head, his lip curling.

"He could not have crossed the Age Line," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "I am sure we are all agreed on that -"

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Madame Maxime, shrugging.

"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely.

"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" said Professor McGonagall angrily. "Really, what nonsense! Harry could not have crossed the line himself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!"

She shot a very angry look at Professor Snape.

"Mr. Crouch… Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, "you are our - er - objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"

Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr. Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice.

"We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."

"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.

"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff. He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."

"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out - it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament -"

"- in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"

"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a voice from near the door. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"

Moody had just entered the room. He limped toward the fire, and with every right step he took, there was a loud clunk.

"Convenient?" said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody." Harry could tell he was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Moody was saying was barely worth his notice, but his hands gave him away; they had balled themselves into fists.

"Don't you?" said Moody quietly. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out.  _Unless_   _you_  did…" He looked at Jack, who glared.

"I didn't put his name in the cup!" Jack cried. It was enough that the Ministry complained a fourth-year student who's 17 years old competing the tournament but being accused to put someone else's name in the cup?!

"Are you sure? You are a Black and your family has a very dark connections with You-Know…" Moody growled but was interrupted when Madame Maxime said,

"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!"

"I quite agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards -"

"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," growled Moody, "but… funny thing… I don't hear him saying a word…"

"Why should 'e complain?" burst out Fleur Delacour, stamping her foot. "E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money - zis is a chance many would die for!"

"How come he entered?" Jack asked, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall.

"Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to die for it," said Moody, with the merest trace of a growl.

An extremely tense silence followed these words. Ludo Bagman, who was looking very anxious indeed, bounced nervously up and down on his feet and said, "Moody, old man… what a thing to say!"

"We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn't discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime," said Karkaroff loudly. "Apparently he is now teaching his students to fear assassination too. An odd quality in a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dumbledore, but no doubt you had your reasons."

"Imagining things, am I?" growled Moody. "Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy's name in that goblet…"

"Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?" Madame Maxime said, throwing up her huge hands.

"Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object!" said Moody. "It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament… I'm guessing they submitted Potter's name under a fourth school, to make sure he was the only one in his category…"

"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody," said Karkaroff coldly, "and a very ingenious theory it is - though of course, I heard you recently got it into your head that one of your birthday presents contained a cunningly disguised basilisk egg, and smashed it to pieces before realizing it was a carriage clock. So you'll understand if we don't take you entirely seriously…" "There are those who'll turn innocent occasions to their advantage," Moody retorted in a menacing voice. "It's my job to think the way Dark wizards do, Karkaroff - as you ought to remember…"

"Alastor!" said Dumbledore warningly. Harry wondered for a moment whom he was speaking to, but then realized "Mad-Eye" could hardly be Moody's real first name. Moody fell silent, though still surveying Karkaroff with satisfaction - Karkaroff's face was burning.

"How this situation arose, we do not know," said Dumbledore, speaking to everyone gathered in the room. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Jack and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do…

"Ah, but Dumbly-dorr -"

"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it."

Dumbledore waited, but Madame Maxime did not speak, she merely glared. She wasn't the only one either. Snape looked furious; Karkaroff livid; Bagman, however, looked rather excited.

"Well, shall we crack on, then?" he said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honors?"

Mr. Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie.

"Yes," he said, "instructions. Yes… the first task…"

He moved forward into the firelight. Close up, Harry thought he looked ill. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a thin, papery look about his wrinkled skin that had not been there at the Quidditch World Cup.

"The first task is designed to test your daring," he told Harry, Jack, Fleur, and Viktor, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard… very important.

"The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges.

"The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."

Mr. Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore.

"I think that's all, is it, Albus?"

"I think so," said Dumbledore, who was looking at Mr. Crouch with mild concern. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"

"No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry," said Mr. Crouch. "It is a very busy, very difficult time at the moment… I've left young Weatherby in charge… Very enthusiastic… a little overenthusiastic, if truth be told…"

"You'll come and have a drink before you go, at least?" said Dumbledore.

"Come on, Barty, I'm staying!" said Bagman brightly. "It's all happening at Hogwarts now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!"

"I think not, Ludo," said Crouch with a touch of his old impatience.

"Professor Karkaroff - Madame Maxime - a nightcap?" said Dumbledore.

But Madame Maxime had already put her arm around Fleur's shoulders and was leading her swiftly out of the room. Harry could hear them both talking very fast in French as they went off into the Great Hall. Karkaroff beckoned to Krum, and they, too, exited, though in silence.

"Harry, Jack, I suggest you go up to bed," said Dumbledore, smiling at both of them. "I am sure Gryffindor and Slytherin are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."

Harry and Jack looked at each other. Jack nodded, and they left together.

"How did you do it?" Jack asked as they walked down the deserted Great Hall. "Enter I mean."

"I didn't!" Harry shook his head. "I didn't put it in. I was telling the truth."

"OK." Jack shrugged. He then noticed Harry staring at him. "What?"

"You believe me?"

"Sure, why not." Jack said. "Look, everyone is not going to be happy that you enter the tournament whether you did it or not. I'd watch out your back if I were you," he called as he walked to the other direction. "Slytherins aren't going to happy with you."

Harry stared at him for a moment before walking down the hall.

* * *

Harry watched as Hedwig flew away with a letter for Sirius on a fine Sunday morning. His thoughts went back what happened today.

Jack was right when he said everyone wasn't exactly happy that Harry was part of the Tournament. Nobody believed him when he told them that he didn't put his name in the cup. Nobody. Not even his own best friend Ron. When he went down the Gryffindor common, the whole Gryffindors cheered for him, treating him like he was some sort of hero. At least Hermione believed him.

It wasn't the best day for him.

He thought it would have improved the following day but he was wrong. He wanted to avoid the whole school but knew he couldn't avoid it when class started. He wasn't surprised when the whole school thought he put his name in the cup.

Ron still wasn't talking to him, and neither did Harry in return. Hermione tried to force those two to have conversation but they just pretended they didn't exist.

They all stood outside Hagrid's cabin. It was Care of Magical Creatures and that meant it would be the first time for Harry to come face-to-face with them since becoming a champion. He wasn't surprised when Malfoy arrived with a familiar sneer firmly in place.

"Ah, look, boys, it's the champion," Malfoy said to Crabbe and Goyle the moment he got within earshot of Harry. He then glared at the Gryffindor champion, "You didn't think fame is enough for you, Potter? You better pull out your autograph books and get a signature because I doubt he's going to be around much longer and I reckon our Slytherin champion is going to win it."

Before anyone could open their mouth, Hagrid emerged from the back of his cabin balancing a teetering tower of crates, each containing a very large Blast-Ended Skrewt. To the class's horror, Hagrid proceeded to explain that the reason the skrewts had been killing one another was an excess of pent-up energy, and that the solution would be for each student to fix a leash on a skrewt and take it for a short walk. The only good thing about this plan was that it distracted Malfoy completely.

"Take this thing for a walk?" he repeated in disgust, staring into one of the boxes. "And where exactly are we supposed to fix the leash? Around the sting, the blasting end, or the sucker?"

"In the middle," Jack muttered, who was standing next to Malfoy.

"Er - yeh might want ter put on yer dragon-hide gloves, jus' as an extra precaution, like." Hagrid said, "Harry - you come here an' help me with this big one…" Hagrid's real intention, however, was to talk to Harry away from the rest of the class. He waited until everyone else had set off with their skrewts, then turned to Harry and said, very seriously, "So - yer competin', Harry. In the tournament. School champion."

"One of the champions," Harry corrected him.

Hagrid's beetle-black eyes looked very anxious under his wild eyebrows.

"No idea who put yeh in fer it, Harry?"

"You believe I didn't do it, then?" Harry's eyes looked hopeful.

"Course I do," Hagrid grunted. "Yeh say it wasn' you, an' I believe yeh - an' Dumbledore believes yer, an' all."

"Wish I knew who did do it," said Harry bitterly.

The pair of them looked out over the lawn; the class was widely scattered now, and all in great difficulty. The skrewts were now over three feet long, and extremely powerful. No longer shell-less and colorless, they had developed a kind of thick, grayish, shiny armor. They looked like a cross between giant scorpions and elongated crabs - but still without recognizable heads or eyes. They had become immensely strong and very hard to control.

"Look like they're havin' fun, don' they?" Hagrid said happily. Harry assumed he was talking about the skrewts, because his classmates certainly weren't, except maybe Jack; every now and then, with an alarming bang, one of the skrewts' ends would explode, causing it to shoot forward several yards, and more than one person was being dragged along on their stomach, trying desperately to get back on their feet.

"Ah, I don' know, Harry," Hagrid sighed suddenly, looking back down at him with a worried expression on his face. "School champion… everythin' seems ter happen ter you, doesn' it?"

The next few days were some of Harry's worst at Hogwarts. It wasn't exactly easy, especially with the Slytherins. They were nastier and threw some hexes and insults, much worse than Malfoy and that was saying something. He could understand the Slytherin's attitude even though he dislike the house and wasn't popular there. After all, the Slytherin didn't shine the whole school since Harry first came to Hogwarts and it was a chance for the Slytherins to show what they could do.

He had hoped he would get support from other Houses exclude his own but, to Harry's surprise, the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws weren't supporting him either. Well, he was more surprise the  _Hufflepuffs_  were showing  _support to a Slytherin._ Turns out, Jack put a stop to constant bullying between Slytherins and Hufflepuffs and first to second year Hufflepuffs adored him despite being Slytherin. But mostly the reason why the Hufflepuffs were supporting Jack rather than Harry was they believed Harry was an fame-seeker. The Ravenclaws even believed that.

Plus, Jack was rather handsome to the girl's eyes. Especially he was rather a gentleman and charming when he wants to be, and especially playful to first and second years. It was concluded already last month that Jack was one of the decent Slytherins. Harry scoffed a bit at that thought.

Meanwhile there was no reply from Sirius, Hedwig was refusing to come anywhere near him, Professor Trelawney was predicting his death with even more certainty than usual, and he did so badly at Summoning Charms in Professor Flitwick's class that he was given extra homework - the only person to get any, apart from Neville.

"It's really not that difficult, Harry," Hermione tried to reassure him as they left Flitwick's class - she had been making objects zoom across the room to her all lesson, as though she were some sort of weird magnet for board dusters, wastepaper baskets, and lunascopes. "You just weren't concentrating properly -"

"Wonder why that was," said Harry darkly. "Still - never mind, eh?"

He could hear a lot of whispers around them.

_"Look at him!"_

_"Hey, where's Brena? I haven' seen her for a long while."_

_"I got an essay I have to work in Potions."_

_"Fame seeker!"_

_"Stop hiding!"_

Few days passed and it was now the second week of November. Dueling club. It didn't end well when Harry was paired with Ron and they had threw insults each other and hexes. Harry had won but was sent to the Hospital wing together with Ron. Well, Ron was out of the Dueling tournament, Harry thought. Not that he care if he won or anything.

He stormed out of the Hospital Wing and into the courtyard. As he walked past the tree, a voice said,

"Why so tense, Potter?"

Harry stopped and looked up and could see Malfoy sitting in the tree branch, a smirk on his face. Goyle and Crabbe were leaning against the side of the tree.

"My father and I have a bet, you see. I don't think you're gonna last ten minutes in this tournament." Malfoy said and he jumped off the tree and sauntered up in front of Harry so casually. "He disagrees. He thinks you won't last five." He chuckled with Crabbe and Goyle.

Harry's eyes blaze, still frustrated from the fight with Ron, walked up to Malfoy.

"I don't give a damn what your father thinks, Malfoy!" Harry spat as he shoved him. Malfoy glared. "He's vile and cruel. And you're  _pathetic_!" He then walked away.

"Pathetic?" Harry heard Malfoy mutter.

"Oh, no, you don't, sonny!" Moody said, who suddenly appeared at Harry's side, his wand pointed at Malfoy. Harry turned around and saw Malfoy gone and a white ferret standing in his place. He gaped at Moody.

"I'll teach you to curse when their back is turned!" Moody said as he used his wand and lifted the white ferret in the air up and down. Harry looked around and could see the crowd forming around him. "You stinkin', cowardly, scummy, back-shooting…"

Jack pushed the crowed, Daphne at his side, and he was confused when he saw Moody lifting a white ferret in the air.

"Professor Moody!" Professor McGonagall pushed the crowd and came to Harry's side. "What are you doing?!"

"Teaching." Moody replied, still bouncing the ferret up and down.

Professor McGonagall's eyes widened when a realization hit her. "Is that…Is that a student?!" Her voice incredulous.

"Technically, it's a ferret." Moody then snatched the ferret in the air and shoved it into Crabbe's pants. The whole crowd laughed as Crabbe panicked, almost jumping up and down. Goyle tried to get the ferret out of Crabbe's pants but he got bitten by it. Finally, the ferret managed to come out of it's pants as he crawled to the ground.

Professor McGonagall waved her wand and everyone watched as the white ferret turned to Draco Malfoy. His hair was way messy than the time Harry and Ron pranked. He quickly stood up and face Moody. His face then twisted to anger.

"My father will hear about this!" He cried.

"Is that a threat?" Moody growled as he started to storm dangerously towards the blonde, who quickly ran behind the tree. "Is that threat?!"

"Professor Moody!" McGonagall called as Malfoy ran around the tree. Laughter was heard and Harry couldn't help but chuckle, his anger forgotten.

"Is that a threat?!"

"Moody!"

Malfoy ran past the crowds, pushing them out of the way, his bodyguards followed him as Moody cried out, "I could tell you stories about your father that would curl even your greasy hair boy!"

"Alastor…" McGonagall's voice edge as she stood in front of Moody, blocking Malfoy's retreating form.

"It doesn't end here!"

"Alastor, we never use transfiguration as a punishment." McGonagall said, her face serious. "Surely Dumbledore told you that."

"He might have mentioned it." Moody muttered.

"Well, you will do well to remember it."

Harry chuckled as he walked away. His mood lifted as he thought about Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret. Ha! He thought.

* * *

Harry sighed, looking at his Divination homework. It was already late and his roommates were asleep. It would have been easier if he and Ron did this together. It was a lot of fine making up dreams and crazy stuff.

He frowned when he glanced at the Marauder's map. Right there was Jack Black walking out of the Hogwarts and was heading the direction to the Forbidden Forest. He hadn't seen Jack going to the Forbidden forest since the first time. He had been watching him the first whole week of September using the map but he hadn't been there since and was always at the Slytherin common room and he decided that Jack only went to the Forbidden Forest for curiosity.

Harry debated, wondering if maybe Jack was going there for curiosity or maybe for a walk. But he quickly decided against it as he picked up his Invisibility cloak and the map. He hit under the cloak and ran out of the Gryffindor common room and outside Hogwarts.

He looked at the map and saw Jack wasn't there. He knew the map couldn't show him the Forbidden forest. So he decided to follow wherever Jack was. Few hours later, he came out of the forest and decided to wait for Jack to come.

For a moment, Harry's eyes met Jack's—a sharp, hot pain shot across his scar on Harry's forehead. He almost cried out but managed to hold it as Jack entered inside Hogwarts. He took a deep breath as the pain went away and looked up and could see Jack's shadow disappearing as he round off the corner.

 _What the hell?!_  Harry thought.


	10. Chapter 10

"So Black went to the forest and your scar hurt?" Hermione asked as she and Harry walked towards Snape's dungeon. Harry had told Hermione about Jack Black entering to the Forbidden Forest in the middle of the night and when it seemed Jack's eyes met him, his scar hurt. Harry nodded.

"It could be a coincidence, I mean, maybe it isn't Black that's causing your scar to hurt." Hermione whispered, "Your scar hasn't hurt when you talk to Black few months."

It was true. Harry had talked and saw Jack few times after he first went to the forest. His scar hadn't hurt around him, especially when he was in the same room as him.

When he and Hermione arrived at Snape's dungeon after lunch, they found the Slytherins waiting outside, each and every one of them wearing a large badge on the front of his or her robes. Harry frowned when he read the message:

**SUPPORT JACK BLACK—THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION!**

"Like them, Potter?" said Malfoy loudly as Harry approached. "And this isn't all they do - look!"

He pressed his badge into his chest, and the message upon it vanished, to be replaced by another one, which glowed green:  **POTTER STINKS!**

The Slytherins howled with laughter. Each of them pressed their badges too, until the message POTTER STINKS was shining brightly all around Harry. He felt the heat rise in his face and neck.

"Oh very funny," Hermione said sarcastically to Pansy Parkinson and her gang of Slytherin girls, who were laughing harder than anyone, "really witty."

Ron was standing against the wall with Dean and Seamus. He wasn't laughing, but he wasn't sticking up for Harry either.

Some of the anger Harry had been feeling for days and days seemed to burst through a dam in his chest. He had reached for his wand before he'd thought what he was doing. People all around them scrambled out of the way, backing down the corridor.

"Harry!" Hermione said warningly.

"Go on, then, Potter," Malfoy said quietly, drawing out his own wand. "Moody's not here to look after you now - do it, if you've got the guts -"

For a split second, they looked into each other's eyes, then, at exactly the same time, both acted.

" _Funnunculus_!" Harry yelled.

" _Densaugeo_!" screamed Malfoy.

Jets of light shot from both wands, hit each other in midair, and ricocheted off at angles — Harry's hit Goyle in the face, and Malfoy's hit Hermione. Goyle bellowed and put his hands tohis nose, where great ugly boils were springing up - Hermione, whimpering in panic, was clutching her mouth.

"What is going on?!"

Harry looked up and saw Jack and his friends walking towards them. When Jack saw Hermione, he quickly went to her side, ignoring the gasps from the Slytherins and a glare from Ron. Harry noticed Hermione's front teeth were growing than an average size. She looked more like a beaver. She had tears in her eyes as she whimpered in pain.

"And what is all this noise about?" Snape demanded as he arrived. He looked around and pointed his finger at Malfoy. "Explain."

"Potter attacked me, sir -"

"We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry shouted.

"- and he hit Goyle - look -"

Snape examined Goyle, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi.

"Hospital wing, Goyle," Snape said calmly.

"Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron said. "Look!"

"Sir, I should take her to the Hospital Wing." Jack said, looking up. Snape slowly nodded and Jack led Hermione to the Hospital Wing as Malfoy crossed his arms, glaring at the brunette Slytherin.

* * *

Harry entered in a small classroom; most of the desks had been pushed away to the back of the room, leaving a large space in the middle; three of them, however, had been placed end-to-end in front of the blackboard and covered with a long length of velvet. Five chairs had been set behind the velvet-covered desks, and Ludo Bagman was sitting in one of them, talking to a witch Harry had never seen before, who was wearing magenta robes.

Viktor Krum was standing moodily in a corner as usual and not talking to anybody. Jack and Fleur were in conversation. Fleur looked a good deal happier than Harry had seen her so far; she kept throwing back her head so that her long silvery hair caught the light. A paunchy man, holding a large black camera that was smoking slightly, was watching Fleur out of the corner of his eye.

Bagman suddenly spotted Harry, got up quickly, and bounded forward.

"Ah, here he is! Champion number four! In you come, Harry, in you come… nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment -"

"Wand weighing?" Harry repeated nervously.

"We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead," said Bagman. "The expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore. And then there's going to be a little photoshoot. This is Rita Skeeter," he added, gesturing toward the witch in magenta robes. "She's doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet…"

"Maybe not that small, Ludo," said Rita Skeeter, her eyes on Harry.

Her hair was set in elaborate and curiously rigid curls that contrasted oddly with her heavy-jawed face. She wore jeweled spectacles. The thick fingers clutching her crocodile-skin handbag ended in two-inch nails, painted crimson.

"I wonder if I could have a little word with Harry before we start?" she said to Bagman, but still gazing fixedly at Harry. "The youngest champion, you know… to add a bit of color?"

"Certainly!" cried Bagman. "That is - if Harry has no objection?"

"Er -" said Harry.

"Lovely," Rita Skeeter said as she steered Harry out of the room again and opening a nearby door.

"We don't want to be in there with all that noise," she said. "Let's see… ah, yes, this is nice and cozy."

It was a broom cupboard. Harry stared at her. "Come along, dear - that's right - lovely," said Rita Skeeter again, perching herself precariously upon an upturned bucket, pushing Harry down onto a cardboard box, and closing the door, throwing them into darkness. "Let's see now…"

Harry stormed out of the cupboard a few minutes later. If anyone took a look at his face they would know he didn't find the interview by Skeeter amusing nor fun. He looked up and saw the champions were now sitting in chairs near the door, and he sat down quickly next to Jack, hooking up at the velvet-covered table, where four of the five judges were now sitting - Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Mr. Crouch, and Ludo Bagman. Rita Skeeter settled herself down in a corner; Harry saw her slip the parchment out of her bag again, spread it on her knee, suck the end of the Quick-Quotes Quill, and place it once more on the parchment.

He still hadn't forgotten what Jack did yesterday.

"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander?" Dumbledore interrupted his thoughts as he took his place at the judges' table and talking to the champions. "He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."

Harry looked up and could see Mr. Ollivander standing there.

"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?" said Mr. Ollivander, stepping into the empty space in the middle of the room.

Fleur Delacour swept over to Mr. Olhivander and handed him her wand.

"Hmm…" he said.

He twirled the wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks. Then he held it chose to his eyes and examined it carefully. "Yes," he said quietly, "nine and a half inches… inflexible… rosewood… and containing… dear me…"

"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela," said Fleur. "One of my grandmuzzer's."

"Yes," said Mr. Ollivander, "yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands… however, to each his own, and if this suits you…"

Mr. Ollivander ran his fingers along the wand, apparently checking for scratches or bumps; then he muttered, "Orchideous!" and a bunch of flowers burst from the wand tip.

"Very well, very well, it's in fine working order," said Mr. Ollivander, scooping up the flowers and handing them to Fleur with her wand. "Mr. Black, you next." Fleur glided back to her seat, smiling at Jack as he passed her.

"Ah!" Mr. Ollivander said as Jack handed him his wand. "Yes, I remember this. A feather that came from the Phoenix…Dogwood. Thirteen and a half inches…and nice and flexible." Jack nodded politely. "Let's see shall we?" He gave it a wave and Harry saw a stream of blue sparks around the room from the tip of Jack's wand.

The wandmaker returned his wand back to Jack before he turned to Viktor. "Mr. Krum, if you please." After he checked Krum's wand satisfied, he turned to Harry. "Mr. Potter!"

Harry got to his feet and walked past Krum to Mr. Ollivander. He handed over his wand.

"Aaaah, yes," Mr. Ollivander nodded as he eyed Harry's wand. "Yes, yes, yes." He made a fountain of wine shoot out of it, and handed the wand back to Harry, announcing it was still in perfect condition.

* * *

Harry watched as Ron left the room before opening the letter.

_Harry –_

_I can't say everything I would like to in a letter, it's too risky in case the owl is intercepted - we need to talk face-to-face. Can you ensure that you are alone by the fire in Gryffindor Tower at one o'clock in the morning on the 22nd of November?_

_I know better than anyone that you can look after yourself and while you're around Dumbledore and Moody I don't think anyone will be able to hurt you. However, someone seems to be having a good try. Entering you in that tournament would have been very risky, especially right under Dumbledore's nose._

_Be on the watch, Harry. I still want to hear about anything unusual. Let me know about the 22nd of November as quickly as you can._

_Sirius_

* * *

Harry looked at the Marauder's map and noted that Jack wasn't in the grounds but at the Slytherin common room with his friend Theo. He shook his head and went to bed. Few days passed, Harry was getting nervous about the first task. He ignored the articles Rita wrote about him, and he was sure he didn't say those what was written in the papers!

Hermione still wasn't please that Harry and Ron refuse to talk to each other. She mostly spend her time in the library and sometimes had strange moods. Ron would say that she's in "the time of her month" which would make Hermione hex his ass till Friday.

For another few days passed Harry discovered what the first task was. Dragons. And it seemed Jack was the only champion who didn't know about it. He could bet that Viktor and Fleur knew but not Jack.

He walked to the deserted Gryffindor common room on November 22 night and pulled off his invisibility cloak. He took a seat and looked back into the flames. Sirius's head was sitting in the fire.

"Sirius, how're you doing?" Harry smiled as he crouched down by the hearth.

"Never mind me, how are you?" said Sirius seriously.

"I'm -" For a second, Harry tried to say "fine" - but he couldn't do it. Before he could stop himself, he was talking more than he'd talked in days - about how no one believed he hadn't entered the tournament of his own free will, how Rita Skeeter had lied about him in the Daily Prophet, how he couldn't walk down a corridor without being sneered at - and about Ron, Ron "… and now Hagrid's just shown me what's coming in the first task, and it's dragons, Sirius, and I'm a goner," he finished desperately.

"Dragons we can deal with, Harry, but we'll get to that in a minute - I haven't got long here… I've broken into a wizarding house to use the fire, but they could be back at any time. There are things I need to warn you about."

"What?" said Harry, feeling his spirits slip a further few notches… Surely there could be nothing worse than dragons coming?

"Karkaroff," said Sirius. "Harry, he was a Death Eater. You know what Death Eaters are, don't you?"

"Yes - he - what?"

"He was caught, he was in Azkaban with me, but he got released. I'd bet everything that's why Dumbledore wanted an Auror at Hogwarts this year – to keep an eye on him. Moody caught Karkaroff. Put him into Azkaban in the first place."

"Karkaroff got released?" Harry said slowly. "Why did they release him?"

"He did a deal with the Ministry of Magic," said Sirius bitterly. "He said he'd seen the error of his ways, and then he named names… he put a load of other people into Azkaban in his place… He's not very popular in there, I can tell you. And since he got out, from what I can tell, he's been teaching the Dark Arts to every student who passes through that school of his. So watch out for the Durmstrang champion as well."

"Okay," said Harry slowly. "But… are you saying Karkaroff put my name in the goblet? Because if he did, he's a really good actor. He seemed furious about it. He wanted to stop me from competing."

"We know he's a good actor," said Sirius, "because he convinced the Ministry of Magic to set him free, didn't he? Now, I've been keeping an eye on the Daily Prophet, Harry…"

"- you and the rest of the world," said Harry bitterly.

"- and reading between the lines of that Skeeter woman's article last month, Moody was attacked the night before he started at Hogwarts. Yes, I know she says it was another false alarm," Sirius said hastily, seeing Harry about to speak, "but I don't think so, somehow. I think someone tried to stop him from getting to Hogwarts. I think someone knew their job would be a lot more difficult with him around. And no one's going to look into it too closely; Mad-Eye's heard intruders a bit too often. But that doesn't mean he can't still spot the real thing. Moody was the best Auror the Ministry ever had."

"So… what are you saying?" said Harry slowly. "Karkaroff's trying to kill me? But - why?"

Sirius hesitated.

"I've been hearing some very strange things," he said slowly. "The Death Eaters seem to be a bit more active than usual lately. They showed themselves at the Quidditch World Cup, didn't they? Someone set off the Dark Mark… and then - did you hear about that Ministry of Magic witch who's gone missing?"

"Bertha Jorkins?" said Harry.

"Exactly… she disappeared in Albania, and that's definitely where Voldemort was rumored to be last… and she would have known the Triwizard Tournament was coming up, wouldn't she?"

"Yeah, but… it's not very likely she'd have walked straight into Voldemort, is it?" said Harry.

"Listen, I knew Bertha Jorkins," said Sirius grimly. "She was at Hogwarts when I was, a few years above your dad and me. And she was an idiot. Very nosy, but no brains, none at all. It's not a good combination, Harry. I'd say she'd be very easy to lure into a trap."

"So… so Voldemort could have found out about the tournament?" said Harry. "Is that what you mean? You think Karkaroff might be here on his orders?"

"I don't know," said Sirius slowly, "I just don't know… Karkaroff doesn't strike me as the type who'd go back to Voldemort unless he knew Voldemort was powerful enough to protect him. But whoever put your name in that goblet did it for a reason, and I can't help thinking the tournament would be a very good way to attack you and make it hook like an accident."

"Looks hike a really good plan from where I'm standing," Harry said. Then he had a contemplative look on his face, "Hey Sirius."

"Hmm."

"Do you know Jack Black?"

"Jack Black?" Sirius frowned in confusion.

"He's a new student here. Do you by any chance are you related to him?"

"I don't know any Jack." Sirius frowned. "Of course, I've been in Azkaban for 12 years so I can't say for sure. Do you happen to know his parents name?"

"No." Harry admitted. Then he frowned, "I heard from Moody that Jack's family has a dark connection to Voldemort."

"Could be." Sirius nodded. "But maybe he's distantly related. There are no male Black except for me. I'm the only Black left."

Harry wasn't sure what to think about it. He had been a little suspicious of Jack ever since he felt his scar hurt. "Well, Sirius…" He started to tell him about Jack and how his scar hurt and Jack went to the forest.

"Hmm…Could be a coincidence and curiosity. Now, let's talk about dragons. There's a way, Harry. Don't be tempted to try a Stunning Spell - dragons are strong and too powerfully magical to be knocked out by a single Stunner, you need about half a dozen wizards at a time to overcome a dragon -"

"Yeah, I know, I just saw." Harry nodded.

"But you can do it alone," said Sirius. "There is away, and a simple spell's all you need. Just -"

But Harry held up a hand to silence him when he heard footsteps coming down the spiral staircase behind him. "Go!" He hissed at Sirius. "Go! There's someone coming!"

* * *

Harry entered the Great Hall in the morning. He sat next to Hermione at the Gryffindor table and noticed most of the groups were huddled and whispering something.

"What's going on?" He asked.

"Didn't you hear? Brena Lozen is missing." Dean said.

"Who's Brena?"

"A Ravenclaw, third-year. She was last seen when she left late at night."

Harry frowned when a memory hit him. He recalled just a few days ago someone asking where Brena was. His eyes glanced at Jack, who was talking to Daphne. He started to wonder if maybe Jack was connected to this. He probably was or maybe Karkaroff had something to do with it.

He told Hermione his suspicion, dragons, and what Sirius said. Hermione looked doubtful. She shook her head, telling him the first task was more important at the moment.

Tomorrow was the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. Tomorrow. Dragons.


	11. Chapter 11

"Wait,  _what_?!"

"Dragons, Jack,  _Dragons_!" Theo said, his arms almost in the air. "I heard from Adrian. He said he saw it with his own eyes."

Jack sighed as he dropped himself in the couch. "How the hell am I going to fight a dragon?"

"I don't think it's about fighting it. According to Adrian, they said you have to get  _past_ the dragon." Theo said. He looked at his friend with pity. "There are four of them, and you are going to face one of them."

"So how you're going to do it?" Daphne frowned.

"We're going to need help." Theo said. "We may need Draco's help. After all, he's the second best in our year. Maybe he'd know some spells. And we could maybe ask Snape."

"Thanks guys," Jack put up a smile on his face. "But I think I could handle it. I mean, it's just a dragon. I could handle this."

"It could disintegrate you." Theo said bluntly.

"Theo!" Daphne smacked his arms, receiving an "Ow!" from him.

Draco entered the room, looking irritated.

"What's going on with you?" Jack asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Stupid Granger," Malfoy muttered as he joined with them. "She's been pestering me halfway across the hall about her organization S.P.E.W," he threw the badge at them. Daphne caught it and looked at it.

"Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare?" Daphne read out loud.

"She wouldn't stop till I bought that stupid badge of hers." Draco muttered. It was really annoying, especially since Granger was aware his family owned house elves. He had pointed it out to her that house-elves  _want_  to serve people, but she kept arguing with him till he decided the best way to send Granger away was to buy that badge of hers.

* * *

Jack stood in the champions' tent, nervous but he did his best to hide them. He glanced across the room and saw the other participants nervous. Outside, Bagman was giving the announcement. He had assured himself that he could do this. Viktor had got the Swedish Short-Snout; Jack got Chinese Fireball; Fleur was Common Welsh Green, and finally Harry's was Hungarian Horntail.

He watched as Krum exit the tent. Jack knew that he was next. He wasn't sure how he was going to face a dragon. He particularly knew dragons since he love learning a lot about beast. He knew Chinese Fireball will be challenging.

When he heard his name called, Jack almost couldn't breathe but he steady his heartbeat and hid his emotion with a smirk as he walked out of the tent and into the Arena.

He looked above and saw everyone watching. He gulped when he saw a Chinese Fireball dragon. The Fireball was scarlet and smooth scaled with a fringe of golden spikes around its snub-snouted face and extremely protuberant eyes. It was about 50 feet tall. He glanced down and saw the dragon guarding the golden egg. He knew he had to get it.

The hall went silent as Jack came to the view. He pulled out his wand, gripping it tightly.

" _Avis_!" Jack cried as light burst out of the tip of his wand and watched as a flock of birds headed towards the dragon.

The dragon roared, moving its head back and forth. While it's distracted, Jack pointed his wand at one of the rocks, " _Tabula Nix_!"

The rock transformed to snowboard and Jack quickly snatched it as he ducked the Fireball's tail that almost swung at him. The dragon's attention was now focused on him, and Jack's hair nearly was on fire when the dragon blast one towards him.

He quickly dash, gripping his wand tightly on his right hand and the snowboard tucked under his left arm. " _Pronus_!" He cried.

Everyone watched as rocky floor of the Arena flattened. Jack made another wave of his wand, " _Glaciem pavimento_!" Nearly the whole Arena was covered in snow, filled with big hills. The whole audience nearly laughed when a pile of snow landed in the dragon's eyes. Jack quickly jumped onto the snowboard and waved his wand. " _Deprimo_!"

It gave a push and Jack used his left food to make the snowboard move as he nearly bounced over the hills. The dragon roared as it shot a fireball towards Jack, who quickly jumped with a twist and the crowd nearly cheered at his stunt.

" _Aguamenti_!" Jack cried and water burst out of the tip of his wand and into the dragon's eyes. Jack smirked as he quickly pushed himself towards the wall and the crowd was already shouting.

Jack could only smirk and the crowd gasped in shock as he took one last push and then used his left hand to grip the edge of the board to bounce forward and with the wave of his wand his snowboard started to levitate like one of those muggle fiction, a hoverboard.

Everyone watched as Jack's snowboard moved across the ceiling, just above the dragon's head. His left hand still gripping the edge of the board. The crowd gasped loudly as Jack jumped off the board and gave a little spin before landing on the dragon's head. He moved his left leg forward and started to slide down the back of the dragon.

The dragon tried shoot fire from its mouth when it noticed Jack on its back but he ducked. He hissed in pain when he could feel a pain on his shoulder. He just ignored it, still sliding down the dragon's back. As he reached the end tail of the Chinese Fireball, he jumped off at the end and quickly snatched the golden egg. He hugged the egg as his knees went towards his chest as he rolled down the snowy ground as the crowd cheered. He quickly spun around cast, " _Protego_!" A shield formed around Jack as the dragon burst out of fire.

The dragon keepers quickly step in and Jack dropped to his knees, still holding the golden egg. The shield disappeared as he panted for air.

"And Black has done it!" Bagman roared as the crowd continued to cheer. "Look at that folks! Fantastic Transfiguration…"

Jack didn't listen as someone dragged him to the tent. He couldn't believe it. He managed to get the egg without any cracks! He winced when he felt pain on his shoulder. He nearly forgotten the burn the dragon gave him.

He soon learnt that he was second after Harry. Krum was third, and Fleur was the last.

* * *

Harry was glad he and Ron made up. He had told him everything Sirius told him about Karkaroff and Jack Black. Ron had commented it sounded fishy and was willing to support Harry's idea even though he had his doubts.

As Harry went up to the Owlery alone in the evening with a letter on his hand, he had stopped just by the entrance when he heard Jack's voices. He took a step back, listening intently. His back pressed against the wall.

"…Shame Potter didn't lose. Would have been nice to see a broken leg or two." Jack said.

"You know we need him alive, Black!" A voice said. His voice sound scratchy almost as if his throat were clogged up. "Master wouldn't appreciate it."

"So what do we do?" Jack asked.

"We wait. Patience, Black! Patience will be the key to everything."

Harry's heart was pounding as million thoughts entered to his mind as he rushed down when he heard footsteps coming to his ways. His purpose forgotten. Could it be Jack was the one who placed his name on the cup? It seemed so. But why? And who was Black talking to?

Unless Jack was involve with Voldemort. After all, Harry recalled from the night his name was called that Moody had said Jack's family was connected to Voldemort. It made sense. But it didn't look like they plan to kill him in the task, so the question was why are they keeping him alive?

* * *

After the Gryffindors went to bed, Harry beckoned Ron and Hermione to sit next to him by the fireplace and he quickly launched what happened just a few hours ago. Hermione's doubts were slowly fading and Ron nodded and started cursing under his breath.

"We should tell Dumbledore about this!" Hermione said.

Before Harry could open his mouth, a prefect told them it was time for bed. The next day, they went to the Great Hall for breakfast and Harry looked at Black who was sitting at the Slytherin table with his friends.

Dumbledore announced another student went missing and Harry couldn't help but look at Jack, who wasn't looking at Dumbledore and was playing with his wand by levitating a fork.

 _He must be behind this_ , Harry thought.


	12. Chapter 12

Two weeks passed and it was the second week of December with Christmas approaching, Harry and Hermione walked down to the Great Hall for the Dueling Club. As he entered, he had noticed there were at least 40 students left (mixed with 4th-7th years) His eyes roamed around the room and landed on Jack, who was leaning against the pillar. And, for the first time, Harry had noticed Jack had eye bags under his eyes and he suppose he didn't get enough sleep. Probably from going out.

After his discovery, Harry had start looking at the map and noticed Jack coming out of the Slytherin common room just at midnight and sneak out to the Forbidden Forest but it was never easy to find him and especially with Jack's quick legs and that the map didn't have the Forbidden Forest. Harry and his friends had tried before waiting outside the Slytherin Common Room but it wasn't easy with three of them in an Invisibility cloak and Ron's constant fear of spiders one time. It was almost like Fate wasn't allowing them to find out whatever Jack was up to.

Every single time something was preventing them from following Jack; when there was a huge storm and Harry and his friends had trouble holding onto the cloak as Jack quickly sprinted through the Forbidden Forest immune to the storm; Filch coming as Jack quickly dodged to the side; Professor Snape (which earn Harry himself a detention when he decided to do it alone), and Hermione had slipped from the icy floor.

Jack was very quick to escape with his long legs and his speed. It was almost impossible to follow him.

"Alright class," Moody said as he entered the room, pulling Harry out of his thoughts. "Let's get to it. Now that half of you were thrown out, it's time that you'll be dueling the other years." Moody started pairing them up, as usual.

Harry was paired up with a 6th year Hufflepuff. Hermione with a 7th year Ravenclaw. He glanced back and could see Jack paired up with a 7th year Gryffindor. Few hours had passed, and Harry disarming all his opponents.

An interesting thing happened when all hell broke loose and Jack ended up dueling with Moody. Harry wasn't sure how it happened but something about Jack accidentally hexing the Moody had something to do with it or was it one of those older Slytherins who did it, Harry wasn't sure.

Everyone crowded as they watched Jack duel Moody and Harry noted Jack had a graceful look and it almost like he was natural duelist. It made Harry almost looking forward to dueling with Jack. There was no doubt Jack was an excellent duelist.

Jack sent a jelly-leg curse and Moody blocked it. Reducto curse. Protego. And some other advance spells Harry had never heard of. Mostly they were non-verbal and the crowd was impressed a 4th year student dueling an ex-Auror with experience.

Of course, the bell rang during the middle of a duel and Moody had manage to throw Jack out of the room. Harry watched as Jack's face was twisted in anger and annoyance. His ego hurt.

Harry and Hermione discussed about it as they walked back to the Gryffindor common room.

Jack was panting for air as he looked around the corners of the hallways. He had been chased almost quarter of the girls in Hogwarts, and it was almost killing him rather with all the chase and running. They were all intent of cornering the poor transferee student under Dumbledore's famous mistletoe. What was wrong with it if you ask?

Since Christmas was approaching and snow was coming, Dumbledore had decided to use a Muggle tradition with the well-known Mistletoe and everyone knows what happens once there are two people standing under the little innocent plant.

Mistletoes had been hanging around the Hogwarts, especially the entrance of the Great Hall. It had been amusing to Jack when he first heard they weren't just any old mistletoes, but rather Dumbledore's special Mistletoe that was charmed to make sure the people who were standing underneath of it stuck until you kiss the person.

He had been clutching his stomach, his shoulders were shaking when he watch the first victims of it.

It was Professor Trelawney and Professor Moody. Jack couldn't help but hold onto Theo's shoulder for support as he laughed harder when he never thought Moody's eyes would popped out. It had been a laugh to say when Moody had tried to destroy "This piece of plastic of what you call a plant!" he had said. But Dumbledore had fortunately, but unfortunately for Trelawney and Moody, informed them that it was curse and the only way to get out of it was a kiss.

He had watched Moody grudgingly gave Trelawney a quick kiss on the lips before he sauntered out of the hall. There were other students who had got caught under the mistletoe and Jack had watched with amusement as they kiss with interesting pairings; Lavender and Ron, Anthony and Pansy, Goyle and Ginny. During one of this, Jack had got an idea to put Snape underneath of it with someone. Jack felt a little bad dragging someone to this but he didn't want to waste an opportunity when he had manage to push Snape underneath a Mistletoe and was stuck with a 3rd year female student.

The girl's face had turned so red-more red than her ginger, orange hair-when she realized she was stuck with her Potions teacher. Jack deduced the girl had a quiet a crush on Snape. It was comical as he watched Snape's face pale quickly and soon gave the girl a kiss. In the end, Snape shouted at Jack for it for he knew that he was behind all of this.

Jack would be lying when he said he felt bad for watching this with amusement and mirth. But it wasn't funny anymore when he started to notice some girls following him around and trying to lead him to where Jack knew where the mistletoes were hanging did he realize. It was a little amusing especially some younger years trying to get him underneath the plant but Jack always managed to get away easily. He's a Slytherin. He has his ways.

He had notice the increase attention from the female population at Hogwarts at him ever since his name was chosen, and now that they had heard the mistletoe. Well. You could imagine Jack's situation.

Theo had teased Jack about this. Jack was so annoyed that he had pushed Theo off and was accidentally under the mistletoe together with Daphne. You could say Daphne wasn't pleased with the situation and after Theo whined for a minute that Daphne quickly shut him off by grabbing him and gave him kiss. Jack had raised an eyebrow when the pair didn't seem to realize they were kissing each other longer and Jack just left the room shaking his head, knowing that he wouldn't be able to stop them not even a shake on a shoulder would do.

Speaking of kissing, Jack had sighed of relief when the coast was clear and had entered the Slytherin common room before some invisible force was preventing him to take another step.

He looked down and saw a second year female student. She had a long brown hair and purple headband. Her eyes were emerald and she had cute nose and lips. She was hugging the book and her face went red when she and Jack realized they were standing under a mistletoe.

Jack knew that this was Astoria. Jenny's best friend, who was glaring daggers at her by the fireplace. All the students in the common room had looked up and was now watching them. He watched as Astoria glanced at Draco before looking up with him nervously.

Jack gave her a small encouraging smile before he gave her quick peck on the lips and Jack was a little amuse when he saw Astoria's face went redder as she quickly went to the dormitory, ignoring Jenny's glare.

"I see one of them finally got a kiss," Theo said as Jack joined with his friends by the fireplace.

"Poor her," Daphne muttered as read a magazine. "She had been hoping it was Draco."

"So what's got you smiling?" Jack raised his eyebrow when he noticed Draco's big grin. The blonde didn't seem to be paying attention to them, and neither the kiss Jack and Astoria shared. He was obviously lost in thoughts.

"Nothing." Draco replied.

"I'd bet he had a kiss," Theo chuckle. "Who's the lucky lady?"

Draco seemed to snap out of his thoughts as his grin disappeared and was replaced with a glare. "None of your business."

"Pansy maybe?" Jack grinned, ignoring the blonde's glare.

Harry was doing his Divination homework when he glanced at the Marauder's map and noticed Black was heading outside Hogwarts with someone name Lola. Harry quickly call Ron as he snatched his Invisibility cloak and the map. They didn't have time to get Hermione as they ran out the Hogwarts and could see Black was walking backwards in front of a third year student girl with his wand pointed at her face. Harry assumed she must be Lola and noted she was walking like robot.

Harry sent a spell flying over Black's head.

Black's eyes widened when he saw Harry and Ron. He gave his wand a wave and then Lola stopped and stood still. He quickly blocked Harry and Ron's spells by placing a shield charm around him and the girl. He gave another wave of a wand, then Harry and Ron watched as Lola quickly ran through the Forbidden Forest.

"Caligo!" Black cried.

Harry and Ron watched as fog came out of the tip of Black's wand, and their view blocked. Around them, it was a huge fog. Harry and Ron tried to come up with a spell to move the fog away even if they had lights.

Soon, the fog was clear and there was no sign of Black or Lola.

"Wait! Where are you going?!" Ron cried as Harry ran towards the Forbidden Forest.

"To stop him!" Harry shouted. And Ron watched as Harry's form disappeared before he reluctantly followed him to the Forbidden Forest. Everywhere they go, they couldn't find Black or Lola.

After what had happened, Harry and Ron quickly head to inform Headmaster Dumbledore about it. Dumbledore had assured them he and Hagrid will go looking for Black and Lola. Harry and Ron had wanted to come with them but Dumbledore told them that it was late so they were escorted by Professor McGonagall to the Gryffindor common room.

The next day, Harry and Ron told Hermione of what happened as they entered the Great Hall. They looked at the Slytherin table and noted Black wasn't there. Then they looked up at Dumbledore, who was eating his breakfast.

He nodded, silently telling them that they'd talk after this. The Golden Trio ate their breakfast and soon waited outside the Great Hall for Dumbledore. Luckily, today was Saturday and that meant they had no classes today.

Dumbledore led the Golden Trio to his office and then went behind his desk.

"So what can I do for you?" Dumbledore said.

"Sir, have you found Black and Lola?" Harry asked.

"Yes. Though, unfortunately we have not found Miss Kringle." Dumbledore said. The Golden Trio assumed Lola's last name was Kringle.

"What happened then? Where's Black?" Harry asked.

"And is it true he used Imperius curse?" Hermione added. Harry had explained that Jack was using Imperius curse on Lola.

"Hagrid and I had managed to find Mr. Black, but he wasn't seen with Miss Kringle. I can assure you everything is dealt with."

"But sir…" Harry protested.

"Now Harry, we have everything under control. Right now, he's being questioned with the Ministry. We don't know everything yet since I was just about to head off and talk with him."

Harry wasn't pleased with the answers (especially Dumbledore had disappeared all the time) and Hermione was wondering if Black would get sent to Azkaban for using an Imperius Curse since its Unforgivable curse. Harry started to talk with his theories of what Black could possibly be doing and what he was planning. Especially the disappearance of the students.

"What do you think he's doing?" Harry wondered.

"Maybe he's using the Cruciatus curse." Ron shuddered.

"What could he gain from it?" Hermione said.

"He enjoys it."

"Or he's kidnapping them for Voldemort." Harry said as his eyes widened. He had realized at some point that Voldemort could be coming back or his followers trying to bring him back ever since he heard Black's conversation at the Owlery.

"Wait, Harry, let's think for a moment." Hermione said. "What's the connection with Lola and the other students missing?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's random."

Imagine the Golden Trio's expression when they saw Black enter the room in the middle of Moody's discussion. And also imagine their surprise when they learnt Black was off the hook with the Ministry.

"So what did you do?" Harry demanded as he cornered Black after class, Hermione and Ron followed behind him. Black had assured his friends to go without with him. And now the four were standing in a deserted corridor.

"It's not any of your business, Potter." Black drawled with a bored look.

"What did you to the other students?!" Harry demanded as he draws out of his wand. "You've been sneaking out to the Forbidden Forest a lot of times."

"I have nothing to do with the disappearance of the students. I would never put any students or anyone in danger." Black glared at him. "Not that it's any of your business of what I'm doing. Can't I go strolling out?"

"Oh yeah? You've been using the Imperius curse to drag them off with you. What ever happened to Lola?"

"Look Potter," Black growled, his eyes blazing. "I don't like hearing throwing accusations based on observation. I was under the Imperius curse. There! I don't remember what happened. All I remember is doing my homework at my room. So please refrain from doing so without some thinking and I would like to catch up with my friends." Then he stormed off.

"Do you think he's telling the truth?" Ron asked after the long silence.

"I don't know." Harry shook his head. He thought back the lesson he had in DADA. He recalled Black's uncomfortable look when Moody called for him so he could put him under Imperius Curse and see if Black could resist it. Black only resisted less than a minute, and he had refused to be under that curse again. Harry wondered for a moment if Black could really resist the Imperius Curse.

Harry had a glum look on his face as he exited out Snape's dungeons. He had just finished his detention with Snape and it wasn't pleasant. He stopped when he noticed Black was heading to his direction? What was he doing at the time like this?

Without thinking, Harry quickly hid behind the pillar and watched as Black walked past him.

Black knocked on the door to Snape's classroom.

"Come in," Harry heard Snape said. He watched as Black entered the classroom and locked the door behind him. Harry crawled out of his hiding place, and slowly walked towards it before placing his ear on the door as he tried to listen.

"…I need Gulf, sir." Black said.

"Why would you need Gulf, Mister Black?" Snape questioned.

"You see, I have a project in Herbology…"

"You do not have a project in Herbology that involves Gulf." Snape snapped.

"Ok. You're right. I don't. But you see…I really need it. You know for…" Jack trailed off.

Harry told Hermione and Ron about what he had from Black in the dungeons.

"What's Gulf?" Ron wondered.

Hermione pulled out a book and was scanning the pages, "Here it is. Gulf is a plant and is known as one of the most poisonous ingredients in potion making. Mostly used in making a poison. Why would Black want this?"

"Maybe he's using one of the students?" Ron suggested.

"Ron!" Hermione looked alarm. "They are not dead! Just missing!"

"Do you think he's under Imperius?" Harry wondered. He had wondered for a while if Black was under it. He seemed like a decent guy from what Harry had seen and besides, Black had helped other students especially to younger years.

"If he was, then who's putting the Imperius curse?"' Hermione wondered.


	13. Chapter 13

"We still don't know what happened." Harry declared as he took a bite of his scrambled eggs. Hermione and Ron glanced at each other. They had just entered the Great Hall when they heard the news the missing students had returned except Lola.

"We could ask Dumbledore later," Hermione said. She glanced back. "And then we'd find out why they're green…"

It was a little strange when the missing students' skin had a tinge of green. And they were a little pale.

Everyone seemed to notice there was tension in the air. The students looked uncomfortable, glancing each other side to side. The students who were missing refused to tell what happened. Silence filled the room as Dumbledore and the rest of the staff entered the room. It had been a long while for the students to eat breakfast all together.

All eyes landed on Dumbledore who stood on the stage.

"Students," The Headmaster boomed. "This morning, we have located the disappearance of the students. There is a young woman who had died with bravery and save it. Her name is Lola Kringle."

Some gasped, some whispered, some jaws were dropped, and some had tears in their eyes.

"She didn't die in vain. She died in noble death to save the rest of the students."

Harry noticed there wasn't the usual twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes. His eyes saddened at the thought of Lola. Even if he never knew her, he couldn't help but blame himself. He should have fought harder the night Black took her.

His eyes landed at Black, who's his face blank. Anger surged through him and Harry couldn't help but blame him.  _It was his fault_ , Harry thought.  _It's his fault that she died!_

Harry didn't hear the rest of Dumbledore's speech. All he could think of was Black. He was the one to blame. Everything was his fault. His fault.

It seemed he was the only one to notice Black leaving the Great Hall as Dumbledore spoke.

* * *

A week passed and there was a little tension in the air. The students who disappeared appeared to be back there usual self but to those who knew Lola Kringle personally were still lifeless.

Nobody knew what had happened to Lola and the other students who had disappeared. They said they didn't remember anything. The Golden Trio had tried to talk to Dumbledore, but he disappeared again. They had notice Dumbledore disappearing from time and time again ever since the beginning of their fourth year.

Soon, everyone started to go back to their usual ways. Laughter and smiles in their faces. Harry was a little gloom but was determined to find out what really happened. He concluded Black had something to do it. After all, he worships Voldemort. Harry would glare daggers at the American who had ignored him completely. Harry would sometimes make mean remarks to Black about the disappearance of the students and that whatever he was planning had failed.

Usually, Black would glare at him and sometimes someone interrupted him before he could say something. Harry didn't doubt Black was angry that whatever he was planning failed. Whatever it was. All he knew was it had to do with Gulf. He had tried to corner him one time but Nott and Greengrass were there usual to save the day. Harry had noticed Black spent a lot of time himself, alone. Black would wave his friends off. He would sit at the back of the class, and away from the noises. He hardly spoken a word. All there was left was anger in his eyes.

Harry had also noticed Black hadn't went out the Forbidden Forest since Lola.

"Look at this!" Harry jumped, startled as he looked up from his lunch. Hermione pulled out a newspaper, irritated. "I can't believe it she's done it again. ' _Miss Granger a plain but ambitious girl seems to be developing a taste for famous wizards. Her latest prey sources report is none other than the Bulgarian bon-bon Viktor Krum. No word yet on how Harry Potter's taking this latest emotional blow'_."

A young boy walked up to them, holding a package.

"Parcel for you Mr Weasley." He said, handing the package to Ron.

"Thank you Nigel." Ron muttered. He looked up when he noticed Nigel gazing at Harry with an expectant and excited look. "Not now Nigel. Later. Go on." He waved off, and Nigel left.

Hermione had her eyebrow raised and Harry stared at him. Ron sighed.

"I told him I'd get him Harry's autograph." Ron explained, and he looked down at the package and started unwrapping it. "Oh look mum's sent me something." He pulled out a hideous looking dress robes. "Mum sent me a dress?!"

Some students laughed when they got a good look at the dress robes.

"Well it does match your eyes." Harry chuckled as he pulled a funny looking shirt that happened to look like a bonnet. "Is there a bonnet?"

"Ginny these must be for you." Ron said, looking at Ginny who sat next to them.

"I'm not wearing that it's ghastly." Ginny made face. The people who sat next to her laughed.

"What are you on about?" Ron demanded when he noticed Hermione laughing.

"They're not for Ginny they're for you!" Hermione chuckled. "They're dress robes."

"Dress robes?" Ron's face crunched in confusion. "For what?"

* * *

"The Yule ball has been a tradition of the tri-wizard tournament since its inception." McGonagall said. All the students from fourth year and above were asked to be in the Great Hall. The girls were seated on the left side and the boys on the right side.

"On Christmas eve night we and our guests gather in the great hall for well mannered frivolity. As representitives of the host school I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward, and I mean this literally because the yule ball is first and foremost... a dance."

Groans emerge from the boys who are listening on. The girls seem a lot more excited.

"Silence. Dress robes will be worn and the ball will start at eight o' clock on Christmas day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. So now—" Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "I will not have you in the course of a single evening besmirching that name by behaving like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons. So not inappropriate behavior."

"Now then, it is also a tradition the champions require a dance partner."

"What?!" Black shouted. Harry thought the same thing.

"Traditionally, Mister Black, the champions and their partner must open the ball." Snape said, with a bored look face.

"But I don't want—" Black protested but was silence by the glare Snape gave him. The American sighed. "Um, sir, I don't know how to dance."

"Which is why you are all gathered here today," Professor McGonagall said. "Now to dance is to let the body breathe, inside every girl a secret swan slumbers longing to burst forth and take flight."

"Something's about to burst out of Eloise Midgen, but I don't think it's a swan." Ron whispered to Dean. Some of the boys snickered. Eloise Midgen had acne on her face and lots of students made fun of her.

"Mr. Weasley," McGonagall called and the boys stopped laughing as she held out her hand. "Will you join me?"

Ron reluctantly took her hand as McGonagall led him in the middle of the room so everyone could see.

"Now, place your right hand on my waist." She instructed.

"Where?"

"My waist."

Ron did so and Malfoy wolf whistled. Most of the boys snickered while some of the girls giggled when they saw Ron's face. It was obvious he was uncomfortable as he and Professor McGonagall dance around the room.

"A student and a teacher dance. You'll be lucky sir that you could dance with Emily," Jack gave a Snape a cheeky look. Emily was the red-headed girl Snape had once kiss all because of a Mistletoe. Snape only glared at his student.

"Everybody come together." His Transfiguration teacher said.

The girls instantly stood and walk forward, expecting to have a partner but the boys were still all seated. Most of them looked away as if they didn't hear the call.

"Boys! On your feet!"

Slowly and reluctantly, the boys stood and partnered up with them. Jack had a mischievous look as he pushed Theo to Daphne's direction. He looked in front and got partnered up with the first girl he saw. He ended up dancing with a girl named Cho.

Luckily, the Slytherins knew how to dance well and it seems Jack was the only Slytherin who dance rather ungracefully but at least he was a fast learner.

He didn't seem to notice someone glaring dagger at him.

* * *

The Golden Trio were at the Great Hall, working on their homework. It was their free period but it was decided to be their study period and Professor Snape was in charge as he roamed around the table.

Harry was working on his essay at Potions when Ron said, "This is mad. At this rate we'll be the only ones in our year without dates."

Jack Black, who was sitting close to the group, listened to them with interest. The Slytherins and Gryffindor were sharing the same table since Snape thought it would be a torture to Gryffindors.

Speaking of Snape, who was just walking past the Golden Trio and slapped Ron over the head.

Professor Snape did say no noises and work in silence.

Jack leaned closer in the Golden Trio's direction and heard Ron muttered, "Well, us and Neville."

"I asked Parvati," Harry said. He had asked Cho but she declined apologetically. She said that someone had asked her already. It was a shame. In the end, Harry asked Parvati, who was Padma's sister.

"But it might interest you to know that Neville's already got someone." Hermione whispered before working on her homework before Snape caught her making noises.

"Now I'm really depressed."

Jack watched in interest as Fred handed Ron a note. He couldn't see what it said. He nudged Theo and gestured at the Golden Trio. Daphne looked up and rolled her eyes when she noticed them not doing work, so she returned back to doing her essay. Draco, who was sitting next to them, looked up with a curious look. Theo gestured the Golden Trio. The Slytherins listened closely as they did their work.

Fred scrunched up a ball of paper and threw it to a girl with a black hair, who looked irritated. Unfortunately, Snape was just standing behind her, but fortunately, he was too busy looking at her essay.

They watched as Fred made a gesture which Jack could only presume "Do you wanna go to the ball with me?" The girl with the black hair nodded with a smile. Fred winked in Ron's direction before going back to work on his essay.

Ron leaned closely to Hermione, "Oi! Hermione, you're a girl." He whispered, looking over his shoulder to make sure Snape wasn't looking

"Very well spotted." Hermione snapped, looking irritated. Harry was poking Ron's shoulder rather frantically but Ron was distracted. He didn't seem to notice Snape coming their way except Harry.

"Come with one of us?" Ron asked with a pleading look. The Golden Trio jumped when Snape hit them on the head with a notebook. Ron glared at Snape for a moment before rubbing his head as he leaned closer to Hermione, "Come on. It's one thing for a bloke to show up alone. For a girl it's just sad."

Jack, Theo, and Draco shared a look and rolled their eyes.  _Unbelievable_ , they thought.

"I won't be going alone because believe it or not someone's asked me!" Hermione snapped as she took her essay and got up. She walked up to Professor Snape and handed her work. Hermione walked back to them, "And I said yes!" Then she snatched her stuff and walked away.

"Bloody hell." Ron muttered. Jack raised his eyebrow.

"So Jack," Pansy said. "Who are you going to ball with?"

"Ugh!" Jack groaned. He honestly wanted to forget about it and he didn't particularly like dancing. Especially something formal. He thought they were rather boring. "I don't know."

"Well you better go ask someone before the good ones are out mate." Theo chuckled.

"Then who would I go with?"

"You can ask Millicent."

Theo and Draco snickered while the girls and Jack glared at them.

"I don't think anyone would say no to you," Daphne said. "It's alright Jack. Just use that charm of yours and you'll be fine."

"My famous Frost charm," Jack grinned. Daphne rolled her eyes. "So who are you going to the ball?"

"Blaise." She replied.

"Zabini!" Theo's eyes widened in surprise. Even the other boys looked surprised.

"Yes!" Daphne snapped. "What's wrong with Blaise?"

"I don't like him. He's very secretive and quiet. There's something wrong with him." Theo grumbled. Draco and Jack shared a look and rolled their eyes.  _Jealous_ , they thought. Though, they were surprised that Blaise Zabini asked Daphne out. Even though Draco was an acquaintance with Blaise, he thought he was quiet secretive but understood why. Jack didn't know Blaise and had never talked to him outside classes.

"I gotta go," Jack sighed as Daphne and Theo fought. He got his bag and handed his essay to Professor Snape before walking out the room. "Oof!" He bumped into someone. He looked up and saw a blonde girl with wide eyes. "I'm sorry.

"It's alright." She cocked her head to the side. "Your hair is white."

"Umm…" Jack frowned. "No. It's brown."

"No it isn't." She took a step closer and showed him his bangs. "See." She was right. The ends were colour white but it wasn't exactly noticeable unless you look closely. "Pillywiggles is an infestation who sucks colors. I think the pillywiggles sucked some color of your hair."

"S-sorry, b-but what?" Jack blinked.

"Pillywiggles." She nodded.

 _Odd_ , Jack thought.

"Um, thanks?" Jack walked past her.

"Jack!" she called.

Jack spun around as the girl cocked her head to the other side, her eyes wide.

"I bet there are Wrackspurts hiding in a mistletoe." She said.

"Sure…" he said, looking uneasy.

"They would most likely be seen in Christmas." The blonde girl said. "Would you like to help?"

Jack was taken-aback. "In Christmas?"

"Yes." She nodded.

"In Yule Ball?"

She nodded again. "We can go look for it after the dance."

Jack blinked a couple of times, gaping like a fish. "Are you asking me to go to the ball with you?"

"If you like," she smiled. "Maybe we'd find a Crumple-Horned Snorkack."

"Sure." Jack nodded slowly. After all, he did need a date. He didn't seem to notice a group of girls shooting him disappointment looks. "What's your name?" he asked, after realizing that he never learn the blonde girl's name.

"Luna. Luna Lovegood. I'd see you in the entrance at 8." Luna walked away.

 _She's one strange girl_ , Jack thought.  _But interesting._

* * *

"So did you find it?" Jack asked, leaning against the table that was filled with drinks. He was wearing black robes, with a white shirt. He had notice the girls looks were giving him but did his best to ignore him.

"No I don't think so." Luna shook her head. She had a short dress that went to her knees. Her dress reminded Jack of waves since every time she moved, her dress seemed to be flowing. It was light blue and she was wearing silver heels. She looked pretty, Jack had said so to her. But she also had a strange thing on the top of her head. It was the biggest butterfly clip he had ever seen. It was clipped to the side and was almost a feet big. But it did sort of made her sparkle.

Everyone had been surprised to see Jack going out with Luna, even his Slytherin housemates. What was more surprising however was Hermione going out with Viktor Krum. Fleur went with some guy Jack had never met, and Harry went with a girl Jack who couldn't remember her name but was sure she had a twin sister.

Back to the subject, Luna was surprisingly an interesting company. Jack didn't much fancy dancing and neither did Luna. They only did one dance and they decided to have a chat after Jack declined all the girls invitation to dance with him. Jack found himself engaged with Luna as she talked about the creatures Jack had never heard of. Everything about Piggywiggles, Wrackspurts—though he wasn't sure those creatures she mentioned were real.

"Wrackspurts are invisible creatures that float into people's ears, making their brains rather fuzzy."

"And you are using that?" Jack raised his eyebrow, gesturing the glasses she was wearing. It was rather big, shiny.

"Hmm." Luna nodded as she removed the Spectrespecs. "Only these can help you find Wrackspurts."

"Hey Jack!" Theo said, coming towards him. "I'm heading out."

"Where's your date?" Jack frowned. He recalled Theo had asked out a fourth year brunette girl.

"She left," He shrugged.

"And where's Daphne?"

Theo scowled. "She went off with Zabini."

Jack rolled his eyes, detecting jealousy in Theo's tone. He glanced at his surroundings and noticed the room was nearly empty. There were couples who were slow dancing, and teachers having a good time, some students hanging in the corner of the room.

"Just say the magic words Theo and she'll jump right into your arms. Simple." Jack shrugged.

"Magic words?"

"Just say your feelings! Girls like it when guys confess their feelings."

"Daphne doesn't like me that way. We're just friends." Theo insisted.

"Hmm." Jack nodded, clearly he didn't believe that. "Keep telling yourself that mate." Then he blinked before he groaned. "Did I just say 'mate'? Ugh. I'm turning English."

"There's a creature called Frippoly." Luna said. "They translate the language you spoke of to any language they want."

Jack and Theo blinked.

"Ok…See ya Jack!" Theo patted his shoulder before he walked away from the pair.

"I guess I'd go." Luna said.

"Want me to walk you back?" Jack offered.

"Don't worry, I'm sure the galjays are watching me." Luna said before she walked off the room while Jack shook his head in amusement and blinked. His eyes wandered the room till it landed on Harry.

"Hey! Potter!" Jack called as he walked over to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what's your theory? What's really going on?


	14. Chapter 14

Months flew by, and it was now February. Harry ignored the Valentines love letters and chocolates the girls had sent him. It reminded him the time in his second year when he received a poem from his secret admire. It was irritating rather. But at least he wasn't the only one since it seemed Jack had a couple of ones too. But nothing compared to Viktor Krum who received tons of it.

As Harry left the Prefect bathroom, walking silently down the corridor with his Invisibility Cloak.

He had just listened the clue he received from the Golden Egg. And he had realized he was dealing something that had to do with mermaids and water. Shaking his head as he walked down the corridors, he glanced at the Maruaders Map and noted that Crouch was in Snape's dungeons. What was he doing there?

Then another strange thing was Theo Nott. He was somewhere just ahead of Harry.

Before he could ponder that thought further he heard footsteps and…gruntle? Harry turned around and saw Filch dragging a very annoyed Black. By the ear.

"Let me go!"

"What is going on here?"

The three male turned around and saw Professor Snape standing there. Black pulled himself free of Filch's grip, looking furious.

"Professor Snape, I discover this boy," Filch said as Black glared. "lurking in the sixth floor corridor."

"Let me handle this Filch," Snape said.

"Oh no, he's going to get detention…"

"I can assure you Mr. Black would not get away from this and would receive…a punishment." Snape said, his eyes boring at Jack while Harry blinked a couple of times.  _Did Snape just said that?_  He thought.

Filch grunted before he left them alone.

"Follow me, Jack." Snape said curtly. Harry followed them, Black looked irritated but resentment. He made sure his Invisibility cloak was still around him as Snape and Black walked to a deserted corridor. What was Black doing in the sixth floor? It sounded suspicious, though he hadn't search for Black in the map since Christmas.

He watched as Snape pushed Jack against the wall, "What do you think you are doing, Jack?"

"Nothing! Can't a guy stroll around…"

"Do not lie to me Mr. Black, you know it. Now, what were you doing at the sixth floor?"

"Like I said, I was just strolling…"

"I know what you are doing…"

"No you don't!" Black glared as he pushed Snape away from him. "Whatever you are thinking  _Severus_  I am not."

"You have nearly been caught, if you…"

"You are going to what? Put me in detention? Report me to Dumbledore?!" Black jeered.

"You could not afford…"

"Look, it is none of your business Snape!" Black snapped. "You do not know anything and I do not want you interfering it. So leave me alone!" Then he stormed off.

Harry had a confused look on his face. What was going on? He thought as he walked back to the Gryffindor tower.

* * *

Harry had told Hermione and Ron what happened the next day, and they all agree to keep an eye at him. They were sure Black was involve putting Harry's name in the goblet, but they did not know why exactly. But they were sure it had something to do with the Death Eaters. After what happened with the Quidditch World Cup, and the clues Harry had picked up.

"What is going on Black?" Harry demanded, his wand pointed at Black. He was watching the Marauder's map till he spotted Black heading out of the Slytherin common room and to the hallways. He had decided not to call Hermione and Ron since they were asleep.

"Potter," Black nodded. He didn't look like he was making a move to grab his wand, but his shoulders were tense. "Shouldn't you be back in the dormitory."

"So should you," Harry shot back. Black's eyes narrowed. "I want to know what you are doing. I know you are hiding something and doing something suspicious. And I know you put my name in the cup."

"I didn't put your name in the cup, Potter."

"You were involved! I want to know why! Is this revenge for Voldemort."

"Don't you dare say  _his name_!" Black hissed, his eyes blazing at the mention of the Dark Lord's name.

Harry ignored it. "Do you just want to kill me? Then why don't you do it now!"

"Potter, I do not want you killed." Black said, crossing his arms. "I think you should stop for a moment and get a grip of yourself. You are not thinking clearly and I don't like you throwing accusations."

"I heard you say it! The day in the first task at the Owlery."

Harry thought for a moment he saw Black's eyes widened in panic but quickly covered it with a smirk on his face. "Whatever you heard Potter, it was nothing."

"It is not!"

"Are you sure? You should get a Healer and have your ears check."

"Black!"

Black stared at him for a moment before his smirk disappeared. "What did you hear?" Harry noted there was a hint of panic in his voice.

"It doesn't matter," Harry shook his head. "I want to know whatever you up to and I want answers of why my name is put on that cup."

"Looks like you are going to get in my way," Black sighed. Before Harry could comprehend what he said, Black quickly pulled out his wand and throw a Confundus Charm. Harry's eyes blur at the moment and he was dizzy. He could hear a voice, and felt his feet walking.

What was happening?

The last thing he heard was a voice said, "I'm sorry."

* * *

Harry had told his friends the next day what happened after he woke up—He assumed Black must have ordered him to go back to sleep. Hermione was appalled and they had check the Marauder's Map at night. They were surprise that Black hadn't went out and was staying in the dungeons. He still stayed there few days later. Hermione reminded him it probably had to do with the Second Task coming nearer and they needed to come up a way for him to breath under water.

Harry quickly ran out of the Hogwarts castle. He was late! He soon saw the seats that had encircled the dragons' enclosure in November were now ranged along the opposite bank, rising in stands that were packed to the bursting point and reflected in the lake below. The excited babble of the crowd echoed strangely across the water as Harry ran flat-out around the other side of the lake toward the judges, who were sitting at another golddraped table at the water's edge. Black, Fleur, and Krum were beside the judges' table, watching Harry sprint toward them.

"I'm… here…" Harry panted, skidding to a halt in the mud and accidentally splattering Fleurs robes. Black pulled out his wand and gave it a wave, and then the mud that was splattered on Fleur's robes disappeared.

"Where have you been?" Percy said with a disapproving voice, who was seated at the judges' table. "The task's about to start!"

"Now, now, Percy!" Bagman said, who looked a bit relieved to see Harry. "Let him catch his breath!"

Harry bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for breath; he had a stitch in his side that felt as though he had a knife between his ribs, but there was no time to get rid of it; Ludo Bagman was now moving among the champions, spacing them along the bank at intervals of ten feet. Harry was on the very end of the line, next to Krum, who was wearing swimming trunks and was holding his wand ready.

"All right. Harry?" Bagman whispered as he moved Harry a few feet farther away from Krum. "Know what you're going to do?"

"Yeah," Harry panted, massaging his ribs.

Bagman gave Harry's shoulder a quick squeeze and returned to the judges' table; he pointed his wand at his throat as he had done at the World Cup, said, " _Sonorus_!" and his voice boomed out across the dark water toward the stands.

"Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One… two… three!"

The whistle echoed shrilly in the cold, still air; the stands erupted with cheers and applause; without looking to see what the other champions were doing, Harry pulled off his shoes and socks, pulled the handful of gillyweed out of his pocket, stuffed it into his mouth, and waded out into the lake.

Harry walked deeper into the icy water; now the water was over his knees. He could feel his legs were on fire as he kept chewing the gillyweed as hard and fast as he could; it felt unpleasantly slimy and rubbery, like octopus tentacles. Now waist-deep, he stopped and swallowed and waited for something to happen. He ignored the laughter in the crowd as he felt on the side of his throat grew…two large slits? He had gills. He soon flung himself into the water when he realized he couldn't breathe.

So he swum deeper into the water.

* * *

Harry broke into the surface of the lake. He panted as he pulled Ron and with him to the side of the lake.

"Wet, this, isn't it?" Ron blinked for a few moments. He had just woken up from the spell whatever it was put under him.

"C'mon," Harry said as they swam towards the bank where the judges stood watching, twenty merpeople accompanying them like a guard of honor, singing their horrible screechy songs. Harry could see Madam Pomfrey fussing over

Hermione, Krum, Fleur, the little blonde girl (who Harry assumed must be Fleur's little sister), Black, and Theo, all of whom were wrapped in thick blankets.

Dumbledore Bagman pulled Harry upright while Percy seized Ron and was dragging him back to the back ("Gerroff, Percy, I'm all right!"); Hermione was talking to Krum; Black looked a little bored as Theo glared at him.

Dumbledore was crouching at the water's edge, deep in conversation with what seemed to be the chief merperson, a particularly wild and ferocious-looking female. He was making the same sort of screechy noises that the merpeople made when they were above water; clearly, Dumbledore could speak Mermish. Finally he straightened up, turned to his fellow judges, and said, "A conference before we give the marks, I think."

The judges went into a huddle. Madam Pomfrey had gone to rescue Ron from Percy's clutches; she led him over to Harry and the others, gave him a blanket and some Pepperup Potion, then went to fetch Fleur and her sister. Fleur had many cuts on her face and arms and her robes were torn, but she didn't seem to care, nor would she allow Madam Pomfrey to clean them.

"Look after Gabrielle," she told her, and then she turned to Black. "You saved 'er," she said breathlessly. "Even though she was not your 'ostage."

"Hey, we're friends right." Black smirked a bit. Then he turned to Gabrielle, "Hello, I'm Jack Black. What's a beautiful young lady doing at the famous Hogwarts?" He asked playfully. Gabrielle giggled a bit as Black gave her a wink. Then he turned his attention back to Fleur, "It's nothing Fleur, it's just that I couldn't leave her."

Fleur smiled brightly as she gave him a kiss on the cheek while Theo whistled.

Black ignored him as he talked to Gabrielle, who happily talked to him. Harry's eyes narrowed a bit but was interrupted when Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice boomed out beside them, making them all jump, and causing the crowd in the stands to go very quiet.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows…

"Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points."

Applause from the stands.

"I deserved zero," said Fleur throatily, shaking her magnificent head.

"Jack Black, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was second to return with his hostages, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informed us that Mr. Black would have been the first to return if he had not been assisting Mr. Potter to fight off mermaids and was determined of Fleur's sister's safety. Most of the judges feel that the shows more fiber and merit full marks. However…Mr. Black is forty-five points."

Harry could hear the Slytherins cheered loudly. He noticed though Daphne didn't seem to be cheering, she rather had a frown look on her face. It was strange. Wasn't Daphne friends with Black?

"Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was first to return with his hostage. We award him forty points."

"Harry Potter used gillyweed to great effect," Bagman continued. "He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr. Potter was first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own."

Ron and Hermione both gave Harry half-exasperated, half-commiserating looks.

"So Mr. Potter's score is thirty-five points."

Harry's face lit up. Ron and Hermione, caught by surprise, stared at Harry, then laughed and started applauding hard with the rest of the crowd.

"There you go. Harry!" Ron shouted over the noise. "You weren't being thick after all - you were showing moral fiber!"

"The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June," Bagman continued. "The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions."

It was over. Harry thought dazedly, as Madam Pomfrey began herding the champions and hostages back to the castle to get into dry clothes… it was over, he had got through… he didn't have to worry about anything now until June the twenty-fourth…

Harry suddenly frowned when he noticed Black seemed to be slipping away from the crowd without anyone noticing him. He looked for Ron and Hermione, but they both seemed to be busy. One, Ron was still being fussed over by Percy and Krum was talking to Hermione. So Harry quietly slipped out and followed Black, who was heading to the other side of the corridor in Hogwarts.

Harry crept quietly and was surprised when he heard voices as he hid around the corner.

"How did you do it?" a voice demanded.

Harry peaked around the corner and was surprised to see Daphne standing in front of Jack, her hands on her hips. He couldn't see Daphne's expression, but he could tell Daphne seemed…confuse but a little demanding. Meanwhile, Black had an amuse but bored look on his face.

"Did what?" Black drawled, flipping his wand.

"You could never handle the second task," Daphne said. Harry could hear Daphne's eyes narrowed. "You can't swim. You would never step into a big bloody body of a water. Remember the time in the lake a few months ago?"

"I could swim, Daphs." Black rolled his eyes. "I just don't fancy going there."

Daphne's eyes narrowed even further, suspicion in her eyes. Her expression calculating.

"So who are you?"

"What?" Black seemed taken aback.

"You're not Jack. You can't be." Daphne said as she pulled out her wand while Harry looked confuse. "Jack is an American, and he wouldn't say 'fancy'. So who are you? Where's Jack?"

"I am Jack," Black said.

"No, you look like Jack. So right now, tell me who are you? And where's Jack? What have you done to him?"

Harry's eyes widened and Black was about to open his mouth but Harry's shoe squeaked a bit. The Slytherins turned their heads to Harry's direction.

"Who's there?" Black asked. Harry could hear footsteps coming to his way and Harry quickly ran back to where he came from.


	15. Chapter 15

Harry ignored Malfoy's laughs and Snape's taunts as his eyes roamed around the Slytherin section. It seemed Jack wasn't there. It made Harry a bit suspicious. Ever since he found out that Jack he knew was under a Polyjuice potion, who could it be? And had he hung around the real Jack all the time? It seemed not likely so, probably after the First Task. But the question was, who was pretending to be Jack Black? He had been in the Second Task. Maybe the imposter was the one responsible with the disappearance of the students months ago and not Jack. Harry wasn't sure. He had quickly told Ron and Hermione what happened and they voice their theories. They think they weren't with the real Jack after the First Task.

He had wanted to contact Dumbledore, but he still kept disappearing some time. He rarely eats at the Great Hall these days.

"10 points for your lack of competence Potter!" Snape barked and Harry was pulled out of his thoughts when he noticed his potion wasn't prepared. He send Snape a glare before working on it.

There was a knock on the dungeon door.

"Enter," Snape said in his usual voice.

Harry looked up as the door opened. Professor Karkaroff came in, holding Jack Black by the elbow. Everyone watched him as he walked up towards Snape's desk. Harry noticed Karkaroff and Black seemed agitated. Though Black seemed to be sweating a bit.

"We need to talk," Karkaroff demanded. He seemed determined that nobody should hear what he was saying that he was barely opening his lips. Harry looked at Black and noted that he looked rather ill just a bit.

Snape glanced at Black a bit then his eyes went back to the adult, "I'll talk to you after my lesson, Karkaroff."

"I want to talk now, while you can't slip off, Severus. You've been avoiding me."

"After the lesson," Snape snapped.

"But Mr. Black—"

Harry sneaked a glance at the trio as he held up a measuring cup to see if he'd poured out enough armadillo bile. Karkaroff looked extremely worried, Jack Black, who's pale, seemed to taken upon himself to sit down on Snape's desk and panting air, while Snape looked angry. The class whispered a bit, eyes glancing at Black but continued to work. Daphne and Theo looked worried but didn't say anything.

After the class left, Harry intentionally knocked over his bottle of armadillo bile with two minutes to go to the bell, which gave him an excuse to duck down behind his cauldron and mop up while the rest of the class moved noisily toward the door.

"What's so urgent that you have to bring Jack here? In the middle of class where they could spread rumors?!" Snape hissed.

"'Cuz…" Black moaned. He didn't look like he was in the right mind, rather hallucinating.

"This," said Karkaroff, and Harry, peering around the edge of his cauldron, saw Karkaroff pull up the left-hand sleeve of his robe and show Snape something on his inner forearm.

"And what about Mr. Black?"

"He seemed a lot worst." Harry saw Karkaroff pulled up the left-hand sleeve of Black's robe and showed Snape something. Black didn't seem to be paying attention to them and looked rather tired. "See? It's been this clear, never since—"

"Put it away!" Snape snarled, his eyes roaming around the room.

"But Mr. Black is proof and he's getting worse! Surely you must have noticed-" Karkaroff began in an agitated voice.

"We can talk later, Karkaroff!" spat Snape. "Potter! What are you doing?!"

"Clearing up my armadillo bile, Professor," Harry said innocently, straightening up and showing Snape the sodden rag he was holding.

Karkaroff quickly pulled Jack up to his feet and pulled him out of the dungeon. He looked both worried and angry while Jack Black still looked tired. Not wanting to remain alone with an exceptionally angry Snape, Harry threw his books and ingredients back into his bag and left at top speed to tell Ron and Hermione what he had just witnessed.

* * *

The Golden Trio walked down edge of Hosmeade. When they turned around the corner, Harry grinned when he saw the familiar shaggy black dog, which was carrying some newspaper in its mouth.

"Hello, Sirius," Harry said.

The black dog sniffed Harry's bag eagerly, wagged its tail once, then turned and began to trot away from them across the scrubby patch of ground that rose to meet the rocky foot of the mountain. Harry, Ron, and Hermione climbed over the stile and followed.

Sirius led them to the very foot of the mountain, where the ground was covered with boulders and rocks. It was easy for him, with his four paws, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione were soon out of breath. They followed Sirius higher, up onto the mountain itself. For nearly half an hour they climbed a steep, winding, and stony path, following Sirius's wagging tail, sweating in the sun, the shoulder straps of Harry's bag cutting into his shoulders.

Then, at last, Sirius slipped out of sight, and when they reached the place where he had vanished, they saw a narrow fissure in the rock. They squeezed into it and found themselves in a cool, dimly lit cave. Tethered at the end of it, one end of his rope around a large rock, was Buckbeak the hippogriff. Half gray horse, half giant eagle, Buckbeak's fierce orange eye flashed at the sight of them. All three of them bowed low to him, and after regarding them imperiously for a moment, Buckbeak bent his scaly front knees and allowed Hermione to rush forward and stroke his feathery neck. Harry, however, was looking at the black dog, which had just turned into his godfather.

Sirius was wearing ragged gray robes; the same ones he had been wearing when he had left Azkaban. His black hair was longer than it had been when he had appeared in the fire, and it was untidy and matted once more. He looked very thin.

"Chicken!" he said hoarsely after removing the old Daily Prophets from his mouth and throwing them down onto the cave floor.

Harry pulled open his bag and handed over the bundle of chicken legs and bread.

"Thanks," said Sirius, opening it, grabbing a drumstick, sitting down on the cave floor, and tearing off a large chunk with his teeth. "I've been living off rats mostly. Can't steal too much food from Hogsmeade; I'd draw attention to myself." He grinned up at Harry, but Harry returned the grin only reluctantly.

"What're you doing here, Sirius?" he said.

"Fulfilling my duty as godfather," said Sirius, gnawing on the chicken bone in a very doglike way. "Don't worry about it, I'm pretending to be a lovable stray." He was still grinning, but seeing the anxiety in Harrys face, said more seriously, "I want to be on the spot. Your last letter… well, let's just say things are getting fishier. I've been stealing the paper every time someone throws one out, and by the looks of things, I'm not the only one who's getting worried."

He nodded at the yellowing Daily Prophets on the cave floor, and Ron picked them up and unfolded them. Harry, however, continued to stare at Sirius.

"What if they catch you? What if you're seen?"

"You three and Dumbledore are the only ones around here who know I'm an Animagus," said Sirius, shrugging, and continuing to devour the chicken leg.

Ron nudged Harry and passed him the Daily Prophets. There were two: The first bore the headline Mystery Illness of Bartemius Crouch, the second, Ministry Witch Still Missing-Minister of Magic Now Personally Involved.

Harry scanned the story about Crouch. Phrases jumped out at him: hasn't been seen in public since November… house appears deserted… St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries decline comment… Ministry refuses to confirm rumors of critical illness…

"They're making it sound like he's dying," said Harry slowly. "But he can't be that ill if he managed to get up here…"

"My brothers Crouch's personal assistant," Ron informed Sirius. "He says Crouch is suffering from overwork."

"Mind you, he did look ill, last time I saw him up close," said Harry slowly, still reading the story. "The night my name came out of the goblet…"

"Getting his comeuppance for sacking Winky, isn't he?" said Hermione, an edge to her voice. She was stroking Buckbeak, who was crunching up Sirius's chicken bones. "I bet he wishes he hadn't done it now - bet he feels the difference now she's not there to look after him."

"Hermione's obsessed with house-elfs," Ron muttered to Sirius, casting Hermione a dark look. Sirius, however, looked interested.

"Crouch sacked his house-elf?"

"Yeah, at the Quidditch World Cup," said Harry, and he launched into the story of the Dark Mark's appearance, and Winky being found with Harrys wand clutched in her hand, and Mr. Crouch's fury. When Harry had finished, Sirius was on his feet again and had started pacing up and down the cave.

"Let me get this straight," he said after a while, brandishing a fresh chicken leg. "You first saw the elf in the Top Box. She was saving Crouch a seat, right?"

"Right," said Harry, Ron, and Hermione together.

"But Crouch didn't turn up for the match?"

"No," said Harry. "I think he said he'd been too busy."

Sirius paced all around the cave in silence. Then he said, "Harry, did you check your pockets for your wand after you'd left the Top Box?"

"Erm…" Harry thought hard. "No," he said finally. "I didn't need to use it before we got in the forest. And then I put my hand in my pocket, and all that was in there were my Omnioculars." He stared at Sirius. "Are you saying whoever conjured the Mark stole my wand in the Top Box?"

"It's possible," said Sirius.

"Winky didn't steal that wand!" Hermione insisted.

"The elf wasn't the only one in that box," said Sirius, his brow furrowed as he continued to pace.

"Who else was sitting behind you?"

"Loads of people," said Harry. "Some Bulgarian ministers… Cornelius Fudge… the Malfoys…"

"The Malfoys!" said Ron suddenly, so loudly that his voice echoed all around the cave, and Buckbeak tossed his head nervously. "I bet it was Lucius Malfoy!"

"Anyone else?" said Sirius.

"No one," said Harry.

"Yes, there was, there was Ludo Bagman," Hermione reminded him.

"Oh yeah…"

"I don't know anything about Bagman except that he used to be Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps," said Sirius, still pacing. "What's he like?"

"He's okay," said Harry. "He keeps offering to help me with the Triwizard Tournament."

"Does he, now?" said Sirius, frowning more deeply. "I wonder why he'd do that?"

"Says he's taken a liking to me," said Harry.

"Hmm," said Sirius, looking thoughtful.

"We saw him in the forest just before the Dark Mark appeared," Hermione told Sirius.

"Remember?" she said to Harry and Ron.

"Yeah, but he didn't stay in the forest, did he?" said Ron. "The moment we told him about the riot, he went off to the campsite."

"How d'you know?" Hermione shot back. "How d'you know where he Disapparated to?"

"Come off it," said Ron incredulously. "Are you saying you reckon Ludo Bagman conjured the Dark Mark?"

"It's more likely he did it than Winky," said Hermione stubbornly.

"Told you," said Ron, looking meaningfully at Sirius, "told you she's obsessed with house -"

But Sirius held up a hand to silence Ron.

"When the Dark Mark had been conjured, and the elf had been discovered holding Harry's wand, what did Crouch do?"

"Went to look in the bushes," said Harry, "but there wasn't anyone else there."

"Of course," Sirius muttered, pacing up and down, "of course, he'd want to pin it on anyone but his own elf… and then he sacked her?"

"Yes," said Hermione in a heated voice, "he sacked her, just because she hadn't stayed in her tent and let herself get trampled -"

"Hermione, will you give it a rest with the elf!" said Ron.

Sirius shook his head and said, "She's got the measure of Crouch better than you have, Ron. If you want to know what a mans like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals."

He ran a hand over his unshaven face, evidently thinking hard.

"All these absences of Barty Crouch's… he goes to the trouble of making sure his house-elf saves him a seat at the Quidditch World Cup, but doesn't bother to turn up and watch. He works very hard to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament, and then stops coming to that too… It's not like Crouch. If he's ever taken a day off work because of illness before this, I'll eat Buckbeak."

"D'you know Crouch, then?" said Harry.

Sirius's face darkened. He suddenly looked as menacing as he had the night when Harry first met him, the night when Harry still believed Sirius to be a murderer.

"Oh I know Crouch all right," he said quietly. "He was the one who gave the order for me to be sent to Azkaban - without a trial."

"What?" said Ron and Hermione together.

"You're kidding!" said Harry.

"No, I'm not," said Sirius, taking another great bite of chicken. "Crouch used to be Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, didn't you know?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione shook their heads.

"He was tipped for the next Minister of Magic," said Sirius. "He's a great wizard, Barty Crouch, powerfully magical - and power-hungry. Oh never a Voldemort supporter," he said, reading the look on Harrys face. "No, Barty Crouch was always very outspoken against the Dark Side. But then a lot of people who were against the Dark Side… well, you wouldn't understand… you're too young…"

"That's what my dad said at the World Cup," said Ron, with a trace of irritation in his voice. "Try us, why don't you?"

A grin flashed across Sirius's thin face. "All right, I'll try you…" He walked once up the cave, back again, and then said, "Imagine that Voldemort's powerful now. You don't know who his supporters are, you don't know who's working for him and who isn't; you know he can control people so that they do terrible things without being able to stop themselves. You're scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing… the Ministry of Magic's in disarray, they don't know what to do, they're trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but meanwhile, Muggles are dying too. Terror everywhere… panic… confusion… that's how it used to be.

"Well, times like that bring out the best in some people and the worst in others. Crouch's principles might've been good in the beginning - I wouldn't know. He rose quickly through the Ministry, and he started ordering very harsh measures against Voldemorts supporters. The Aurors were given new powers - powers to kill rather than capture, for instance. And I wasn't the only one who was handed straight to the dementors without trial. Crouch fought violence with violence, and authorized the use of the Unforgivable Curses against suspects. I would say he became as ruthless and cruel as many on the Dark Side. He had his supporters, mind you - plenty of people thought he was going about things the right way, and there were a lot of witches and wizards clamoring for him to take over as Minister of Magic. When Voldemort disappeared, it looked like only a matter of time until Crouch got the top job. But then something rather unfortunate happened…" Sirius smiled grimly. "Crouch's own son was caught with a group of Death Eaters who'd managed to talk their way out of Azkaban. Apparently they were trying to find Voldemort and return him to power."

"Crouch's son was caught?" gasped Hermione.

"Yep," said Sirius, throwing his chicken bone to Buckbeak, flinging himself back down on the ground beside the loaf of bread, and tearing it in half. "Nasty little shock for old Barty, I'd imagine. Should have spent a bit more time at home with his family, shouldn't he? Ought to have left the office early once in a while… gotten to know his own son."

He began to wolf down large pieces of bread.

"Was his son a Death Eater?" said Harry.

"No idea," said Sirius, still stuffing down bread. "I was in Azkaban myself when he was brought in. This is mostly stuff I've found out since I got out. The boy was definitely caught in the company of people I'd bet my life were Death Eaters – but he might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, just like the house-elf."

"Did Crouch try and get his son off?" Hermione whispered.

Sirius let out a laugh that was much more like a bark.

"Crouch let his son off? I thought you had the measure of him, Hermione! Anything that threatened to tarnish his reputation had to go; he had dedicated his whole life to becoming Minister of Magic. You saw him dismiss a devoted house-elf because she associated him with the Dark Mark again - doesn't that tell you what he's like? Crouch's fatherly affection stretched just far enough to give his son a trial, and by all accounts, it wasn't much more than an excuse for Crouch to show how much he hated the boy… then he sent him straight to Azkaban."

"He gave his own son to the dementors?" asked Harry quietly.

"That's right," said Sirius, and he didn't look remotely amused now. "I saw the dementors bringing him in, watched them through the bars in my cell door. He can't have been more than nineteen. They took him into a cell near mine. He was screaming for his mother by nightfall. He went quiet after a few days, though… they all went quiet in the end… except when they shrieked in their sleep…"

For a moment, the deadened look in Sirius's eyes became more pronounced than ever, as though shutters had closed behind them.

"So he's still in Azkaban?" Harry said.

"No," said Sirius dully. "No, he's not in there anymore. He died about a year after they brought him in."

"He died?"

"He wasn't the only one," said Sirius bitterly. "Most go mad in there, and plenty stop eating in the end. They lose the will to live. You could always tell when a death was coming, because the dementors could sense it, they got excited. That boy looked pretty sickly when he arrived. Crouch being an important Ministry member, he and his wife were allowed a deathbed visit. That was the last time I saw Barty Crouch, half carrying his wife past my cell. She died herself, apparently, shortly afterward. Grief. Wasted away just like the boy. Crouch never came for his sons body. The dementors buried him outside the fortress; I watched them do it."

Sirius threw aside the bread he had just lifted to his mouth and instead picked up the flask of pumpkin juice and drained it.

"So old Crouch lost it all, just when he thought he had it made," he continued, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "One moment, a hero, poised to become Minister of Magic… next, his son dead, his wife dead, the family name dishonored, and, so I've heard since I escaped, a big drop in popularity. Once the boy had died, people started feeling a bit more sympathetic toward the son and started asking how a nice young lad from a good family had gone so badly astray. The conclusion was that his father never cared much for him. So Cornelius Fudge got the top job, and Crouch was shunted sideways into the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

There was a long silence. Harry was thinking of the way Crouch's eyes had bulged as he'd looked down at his disobedient house-elf back in the wood at the Quidditch World Cup. This, then, must have been why Crouch had overreacted to Winky being found beneath the Dark Mark. It had brought back memories of his son, and the old scandal, and his fall from grace at the Ministry.

"Moody says Crouch is obsessed with catching Dark wizards," Harry told Sirius.

"Yeah, I've heard it's become a bit of a mania with him," said Sirius, nodding. "If you ask me, he still thinks he can bring back the old popularity by catching one more Death Eater."

"And he sneaked up here to search Snape's office!" said Ron triumphantly, looking at Hermione.

"Yes, and that doesn't make sense at all," said Sirius.

"Yeah, it does!" said Ron excitedly, but Sirius shook his head.

"Listen, if Crouch wants to investigate Snape, why hasn't he been coming to judge the tournament? It would be an ideal excuse to make regular visits to Hogwarts and keep an eye on him."

"So you think Snape could be up to something, then?" asked Harry, but Hermione broke in.

"Look, I don't care what you say, Dumbledore trusts Snape -"

"Oh give it a rest, Hermione," said Ron impatiently. "I know Dumbledores brilliant and everything, but that doesn't mean a really clever Dark wizard couldn't fool him -"

"Why did Snape save Harry's life in the first year, then? Why didn't he just let him die?"

"I dunno - maybe he thought Dumbledore would kick him out-"

"What d'you think, Sirius?" Harry said loudly, and Ron and Hermione stopped bickering to listen.

"I think they've both got a point," said Sirius, looking thoughtfully at Ron and Hermione. "Ever since I found out Snape was teaching here, I've wondered why Dumbledore hired him. Snape's always been fascinated by the Dark Arts, he was famous for it at school. Slimy, oily, greasy-haired kid, he was," Sirius added, and Harry and Ron grinned at each other. "Snape knew more curses when he arrived at school than half the kids in seventh year, and he was part of a gang of Slytherins who nearly all turned out to be Death Eaters."

Sirius held up his fingers and began ticking off names.

"Rosier and Wilkes - they were both killed by Aurors the year before Voldemort fell. The Lestranges - they're a married couple - they're in Azkaban. Avery – from what I've heard he wormed his way out of trouble by saying he'd been acting under the Imperius Curse - he's still at large. But as far as I know, Snape was never even accused of being a Death Eater - not that that means much. Plenty of them were never caught. And Snape s certainly clever and cunning enough to keep himself out of trouble."

"Snape knows Karkaroff pretty well, but he wants to keep that quiet," said Ron.

"He brought Black there!" Harry said quickly. "You should have seen Snape's face when Karkaroff turned up in Potions yesterday with Black. Karkaroff wanted to talk to Snape, he says Snape's been avoiding him. Karkaroff looked really worried while Black…he looked really tired. Sick, maybe. Karkaroff showed Snape something on his arm, especially Black's. But I couldn't see what it was. Don't you see? It means Black's been part of this!"

"You mean the imposter Black," Hermione reminded him.

"Imposter?" Sirius frowned.

Harry began to tell him what he had overheard with Snape and Black in the corridor, and how Black didn't seem fond of Snape anymore (he recalled Black seemed to tease Snape a lot), and after the Second Task, and that Black was using a polyjuice potion. Possibly that they weren't with the real Jack Black after the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament. But it didn't explain why Harry felt pain when he first saw Black in the Sorting. There had been debates how long they've been with the imposter, the real or possibly they were never with the real Jack Black. But what Daphne said, she looked so sure and that she seemed to know Jack well, unless she had been wrong. But Harry was convinced that it was an imposter.

Sirius frowned, but he clearly didn't believe that there was an imposter. "You don't have proof or evidence that Black could be using a polyjuice potion. If he was, did you talk to Dumbledore?"

"He's still off somewhere," Harry said moodily. Dumbledore still had continued to disappear and was still rarely seen eating at the Great Hall. "I think the imposter is involved with Voldemort! I mean, he's the one who put the name in my cup."

"But Harry, they told us Black had been with the Slytherins the whole day at that time," Hermione said. "They only saw Black put his name in the cup."

"Unless it wasn't his name," Harry said. Then another thought hit him, "Now that I think about it, it would explain why Black was able to pass the Age Line. The Polyjuice!"

"You mean he's actually more than 20 year old man," Ron shuddered the thought that they had a student who was actually 50 years old.

"Anyway, back to Snape." Sirius shook his head. "There's still the fact that Dumbledore trusts Snape, and I know Dumbledore trusts where a lot of other people wouldn't, but I just can't see him letting Snape teach at Hogwarts if he'd ever worked for Voldemort."

"Why are Moody and Crouch so keen to get into Snapes office then?" said Ron stubbornly.

"Well," said Sirius slowly, "I wouldn't put it past Mad-Eye to have searched every single teacher's office when he got to Hogwarts. He takes his Defense Against the Dark Arts seriously, Moody. I'm not sure he trusts anyone at all, and after the things he's seen, it's not surprising. I'll say this for Moody, though, he never killed if he could help it. Always brought people in alive where possible. He was tough, but he never descended to the level of the Death Eaters. Crouch, though… he's a different matter… is he really ill? If he is, why did he make the effort to drag himself up to Snape's office? And if he's not… what's he up to? What was he doing at the World Cup that was so important he didn't turn up in the Top Box? What's he been doing while he should have been judging the tournament?"

Sirius lapsed into silence, still staring at the cave wall. Buckbeak was ferreting around on the rocky floor, looking for bones he might have overlooked. Finally, Sirius looked up at Ron.

"You say your brother s Crouch's personal assistant? Any chance you could ask him if he's seen Crouch lately?"

"I can try," said Ron doubtfully. "Better not make it sound like I reckon Crouch is up to anything dodgy, though. Percy loves Crouch."

"And you might try and find out whether they've got any leads on Bertha Jorkins while you're at it," said Sirius, gesturing to the second copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Bagman told me they hadn't," said Harry.

"Yes, he's quoted in the article in there," said Sirius, nodding at the paper. "Blustering on about how bad Bertha's memory is. Well, maybe she's changed since I knew her, but the Bertha I knew wasn't forgetful at all - quite the reverse. She was a bit dim, but she had an excellent memory for gossip. It used to get her into a lot of trouble; she never knew when to keep her mouth shut. I can see her being a bit of a liability at the Ministry of Magic… maybe that's why Bagman didn't bother to look for her for so long…"

Sirius heaved an enormous sigh and rubbed his shadowed eyes.

"What's the time?"

Harry checked his watch, then remembered it hadn't been working since it had spent over an hour in the lake.

"It's half past three," said Hermione.

"You'd better get back to school," Sirius said, getting to his feet. "Now listen…" He looked particularly hard at Harry. "I don't want you lot sneaking out of school to see me, all right? Just send notes to me here. I still want to hear about anything odd. But you're not to go leaving Hogwarts without permission; it would be an ideal opportunity for someone to attack you."

"No one's tried to attack me so far, except a dragon and a couple of grindylows," Harry said, but Sirius scowled at him.

"I don't care… I'll breathe freely again when this tournament's over, and that's not until June. And don't forget, if you're talking about me among yourselves, call me Snuffles, okay?"

He handed Harry the empty napkin and flask and went to pat Buckbeak good-bye.

"I'll walk to the edge of the village with you," said Sirius, "see if I can scrounge another paper."

He transformed into the great black dog before they left the cave, and they walked back down the mountainside with him, across the boulder-strewn ground, and back to the stile. Here he allowed each of them to pat him on the head, before turning and setting off at a run around the outskirts of the village. Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way back into Hogsmeade and up toward Hogwarts.

"Wonder if Percy knows all that stuff about Crouch?" Ron said as they walked up the drive to the castle. "But maybe he doesn't care… It'd probably just make him admire Crouch even more. Yeah, Percy loves rules. He'd just say Crouch was refusing to break them for his own son."

"Percy would never throw any of his family to the dementors," said Hermione severely.

"I don't know," said Ron. "If he thought we were standing in the way of his career… Percy's really ambitious, you know…"

They walked up the stone steps into the entrance hall, where the delicious smells of dinner wafted toward them from the Great Hall.

"Poor old Snuffles," said Ron, breathing deeply. "He must really like you. Harry… Imagine having to live off rats."

* * *

Few days had passed, and April had come. Harry was walking on the first floor, just above the Great Hall, when he heard voices. There were two, and obviously male. Harry's eyes widened when he realized those voices belonged to Malfoy and Black (the imposter). And it was getting louder.

Harry quickly hid behind the pillar and watched as Malfoy and Black turned around the corner and passed by him. He was surprised when he got a good look at them. Malfoy's robes were dirty. His white-blonde hair was covered with dirt and was messy. It gave that Malfoy had a rather dirty blonde hair or maybe close to brunette. Black looked the worst of the two. He wasn't wearing a robe and a jumper. But he had a dirty white shirt (the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows), his green and silver tie a bit loose, his hair was messy as usual.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Malfoy asked Black, his eyebrow raised.

"Of course I'm sure, it says it would kill it…" Black replied.

"Whatever you say, Jack, whatever you say…" Malfoy shook his head. "So when are we going to do this?"

"I don't know. Maybe tomorrow night? The sooner the better," Black replied as they rounded around the corner while Harry looked confused.

* * *

"I'm telling you. Black—or whoever he really is—says something 'it says it would kill it'. Kill it?" Harry told Hermione and Ron. They were in the corner of the library. Harry had managed to find them after he heard what Black and Malfoy said. It seemed they formed an alliance, Harry thought. He had noticed months ago that Black seemed to be angry at Malfoy and had avoided him a lot more ever since the article about Hagrid, then few weeks passed it seemed Black and Malfoy seemed OK now.

"Kill what?" Hermione said. "They could be talking about plants for all we know…"

"But this sounds serious, Hermione!" Harry insisted. "Whatever they did, they're planning to kill it tomorrow night!"

"So what are going to do?" Ron asked.

"We're going to follow them. And maybe try to stop them whatever they're planning. All I know is that it is NOT good." Harry said, unaware Pansy Parkinson was hiding behind the bookshelves and had been eavesdropping on them.

* * *

The Golden Trio were in the common room. Hermione held onto the Invisibility Cloak while Ron and Harry looked at the Marauder's map. It had been a day since Harry heard what Black and Malfoy were talking and it was today.

"Look!" Ron said, pointing at the Slytherin common room. Harry and Hermione saw a dot of Jack Black, Draco Malfoy, and Daphne Greengrass exiting the Slytherin common room. It was late at night, around midnight.

"Let's go," Harry whispered as he wrapped the cloak around his friends and exit the common room. Harry checked the map, making sure Filch or any prefects weren't heading in their way and were satisfied there weren't there. Harry sighed in relief and decided to place the cloak in his pocket, no use of it anyway.

Hermione looked at the map and found the Slytherins walking up to the first floor, then the second as the Golden Trio ran down the corridor quietly. "Come on, they are right-"

The Golden Trio froze.

Standing right in front of them were Pansy Parkinson, Theo Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle. How could they have not notice them in the map?

"B-but…" Hermione stuttered.

"If isn't the Potty, the Ginger, and the Know-it-all," Pansy drawled as she held up her wand, twirling it. "What do you think you are doing in the middle of night?"

"Then what are you doing here?" Ron shot back.

" _Accio Parchment_!" Theo said, his wand out. The Marauder's Map flew out of Hermione's hand to Theo's. He smirked as the Golden Trio looked a bit angry. "Yes, we know about the map. Next time, do talk when you are alone. You never know what you'll end up hearing."

"You're trying to stop us," Harry breathed with realization hit him. "Making sure we don't know what Black, Malfoy and Greengrass are up to."

"We don't know what you're talking about," Pansy rolled her eyes. " _Expelliarmus_!" Ron's wand was shot through the air and landed in Pansy's hand. " _Locomoter Mortis_!" Ron's legs were locked together and yelped as his body hit the ground. Hexes and jinxes were thrown over their heads and the Gryffindors and Slytherins were throwing spells one and another. They were good, thanks to Dueling Club, but Goyle and Crabbe weren't much better. But they were decent.

" _Stupefy_!" Pansy cried as the spell shot towards Hermione.

" _Protego_!" A shield formed in front of Hermione before she quickly shot two spells, " _Petrificus Totalus_!

Meanwhile, Harry and Theo were both sending spells to each other. Harry knew Theo was a good duelist from the Dueling Club.

" _Tarantallegra_!" Theo cried. Harry wasn't able to dodge that spell and he yelped as he looked down and saw his feet moving. He realized he was dancing!

"What is going on here?!"

The Gryffindors and Slytherins froze and turned around and saw Professor McGonagall, wearing a night gown.

_Oh no…_


	16. Chapter 16

Classes continued the next day, the Golden Trio together with the Slytherins (Theo, Pansy, Goyle, and Crabbe) were going to serve detention for a week. Harry looked frustrated when he finally got the map from Theo and saw Black, Malfoy, and Greengrass in their Slytherin dormitory. He watched as Black and his friends walked to the grounds for their Care of Magical Creatures class.

Black was laughing as if yesterday had never happened. When his brown eyes met his—pain shot through Harry's scar and he winced. He almost sank to his knees but luckily Ron held him by the elbow. The pain disappeared and when Harry looked up, he saw Black having a conversation with Hagrid.

Soon, Malfoy and his 'friends' came with Pansy Parkinson at his side. She looked up, and giggled, "Potter, have you split up with your girlfriend? Why was she so upset at breakfast?"

Harry ignored her; he didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing how much trouble the Witch Weekly article had caused. Malfoy glared at him, as usual.

Hagrid, who had told them last lesson that they had finished with unicorns, was waiting for them outside his cabin with a fresh supply of open crates at his feet. Harry's heart sank at the sight of the crates - surely not another skrewt hatching? - but when he got near enough to see inside, he found himself looking at a number of flurry black creatures with long snouts. Their front paws were curiously flat, like spades, and they were blinking up at the class, looking politely puzzled "These're nifflers," said Hagrid, when the class had gathered around. "Yeh find 'em down mines mostly. They like sparkly stuff… There yeh go, look."

One of the nifflers had suddenly leapt up and attempted to bite Pansy Parkinson's watch off her wrist. She shrieked and jumped backward.

"Useful little treasure detectors," said Hagrid happily. "Thought we'd have some fun with 'em today. See over there?" He pointed at the large patch of freshly turned earth Harry had watched him digging from the Owlery window. "I've buried some gold coins. I've got a prize fer whoever picks the niffler that digs up most. Jus' take off all yer valuables, an' choose a niffler, an get ready ter set 'em loose."

Black looked uneasy as Pansy dragged him. She had demanded him to help her as Daphne sulked.

Harry took off his watch, which he was only wearing out of habit, as it didn't work anymore, and stuffed it into his pocket. Then he picked up a niffler. It put its long snout in Harry's ear and sniffed enthusiastically. It was really quite cuddly.

"Hang on," Hagrid said, looking down into the crate, "there's a spare niffler here… who's missin? Where's Hermione?"

"She had to go to the hospital wing," Ron said.

"We'll explain later," Harry muttered; Pansy Parkinson was listening.

It was easily the most fun they had ever had in Care of Magical Creatures. The nifflers dived in and out of the patch of earth as though it were water, each scurrying back to the student who had released it and spitting gold into their hands. Ron's was particularly efficient; it had soon filled his lap with coins.

"Can you buy these as pets, Hagrid?" he asked excitedly as his niffler dived back into the soil, splattering his robes.

"Yer mum wouldn' be happy, Ron," said Hagrid, grinning. "They wreck houses, nifflers. I reckon they've nearly got the lot, now," he added, pacing around the patch of earth while the nifflers continued to dive. "I on'y buried a hundred coins. Oh there y'are, Hermione!"

Hermione was walking toward them across the lawn. Her hands were very heavily bandaged and she looked miserable. Pansy Parkinson was watching her beadily.

"Well, let's check how yeh've done!" said Hagrid. "Count yer coins! An' there's no point tryin' ter steal any, Goyle," he added, his beetle-black eyes narrowed. "It's leprechaun gold. Vanishes after a few hours."

Goyle emptied his pockets, looking extremely sulky.

* * *

Few days passed and it was the last week of May. Harry knew the Third or the Final Task of the Triwizard Tournament was coming. He still hadn't been able to find out what Black was up to. His scar had hurt when he met Black's eyes. But there were times in his presence that it didn't seem to hurt at all. But he couldn't understand. It wasn't a coincidence. Why did his scar hurt sometimes in Black's presence?

Half past eight at night, Harry went downstairs and to the entrance hall where Black came up. They were informed from their Head of their House that they were needed about their third task.

"So what do you think it is going to be?" Black asked casually, as if all those bad times they had encountered were gone.

Harry's eyes narrowed but he didn't say anything as they walked down the Quidditch stadium and onto the field.

"Well you look at that," Black raised his eyebrow as they stopped, looking at the field.

The Quidditch field was no longer smooth and flat. It looked as though somebody had been building long, low walls all over it that twisted and crisscrossed in every direction.

"They're hedges!" said Harry, bending to examine the nearest one.

"Hello there!" called a cheery voice.

Ludo Bagman was standing in the middle of the field with Krum and Fleur. Harry and Black made their way toward them, climbing over the hedges. Fleur beamed at Black as he came nearer.

"Well, what d'you think?" said Bagman happily as Harry and Black climbed over the last hedge. "Growing nicely, aren't they? Give them a month and Hagrid'll have them twenty feet high. Don't worry," he added, grinning, spotting the less than- happy expressions on Harrys and Black's faces, "you'll have your Quidditch field back to normal once the task is over! Now, I imagine you can guess what we're making here?"

"A Maze," Black said flatly.

"That's right!" Bagman cried cheerfully. "A maze. The third task's really very straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the center of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks."

"We semply 'ave to get through the maze?" Fleur raised her eyebrow. She and Black shared a look.

"There will be obstacles," Bagman said happily, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Hagrid is providing a number of creatures… then there will be spells that must be broken… all that sort of thing, you know. Now, the champions who are leading on points will get a head start into the maze." Bagman frowned a bit when he looked at Black. "Mr. Black. Then Mr. Potter will enter together with Mr. Krum…and then Miss Delacour. But you'll all be in with a fighting chance, depending how well you get past the obstacles. Should be fun, eh?"

Black almost grinned widely at that prospect. Harry only nodded politely.

"Very well… if you haven't got any questions, we'll go back up to the castle, shall we, it's a bit chilly…"

Bagman hurried alongside Harry as they began to wend their way out of the growing maze. Harry had the feeling that Bagman was going to start offering to help him again, but just then, Krum tapped Harry on the shoulder.

"Could I haff a vord?"

"Yeah, all right," Harry looked surprised.

"Vill you valk vith me?"

"Okay."

Bagman looked slightly perturbed.

"I'll wait for you. Harry, shall I?"

"No, it's okay, Mr. Bagman," said Harry, suppressing a smile, "I think I can find the castle on my own, thanks."

Harry and Krum left the stadium together, but Krum did not set a course for the Durmstrang ship. Instead, he walked toward the forest. Soon, they found Crouch talking nonsense and Harry had quickly called for Dumbledore for help. When they came back, Krum was unconscious and Crouch was gone.

Harry recalled Crouch's words.

"Don't… leave… me!" Crouch whispered, his eyes bulging again. "I… escaped… must warn… must tell… see Dumbledore… my fault… all my fault… Bertha… dead… all my fault… my son… my fault… tell Dumbledore… Harry Potter… the Dark Lord… stronger… Harry Potter…"

Few days passed, Harry believed someone else had knocked Krum out. He didn't believe Crouch could since he seemed weak. He started to wonder if Black had anything to do with it…

In DADA class, the Gryffindors had classes with Slytherins. As Professor Moody lectured about curses, someone knocked on the door. All the heads turned as Colin's head popped over. "Sir, could Mr. Black be excused?"

"Why? Who's calling?" Moody asked as Black looked at the boy curiously.

"His parent." The boy answered.

Black took his things and said bye to his friends before following the boy outside the classroom. The Golden Trio hadn't seen Black all day, and yesterday he still hadn't appeared. Judging by the look on Black's friends, they would say they don't know where Black had gone off too. According to their Professors, Black has been excused and had went out with his parents. Something about a sick relative.

A day later, Black finally came back to class. He was wearing a winter coat, gloves, and boots like he had just went to a cold place. But Harry frowned when he noticed something different about Black. He couldn't quiet put his finger at it…

In their potions class, when Harry was just about to place his potion to his vial. There was a sound like a drop. He looked around and saw Black had collapsed to the ground. His skin pale, forehead sweating. Daphne and Theo quickly went to his side and helped up.

"Take him to the infirmary!" Snape barked at them.

Malfoy commanded Crabbe to help them. Crabbe went to Black's side, placing Black's arm around his shoulder while the other was to Theo's. Whispers filled the room till Snape snapped at them, telling class was dismissed. He quickly swept his robes and exit the room.

Harry wondered what was wrong with Black…

* * *

Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room with his friends. Today wasn't the best day for he had collapsed in the middle of Divination and saw a vision. It was for the first time in a while the pain he had felt wasn't because of Black, who had never taken Divination.

"I just don't understand!" Harry cried. He didn't understand why his scar hurt. Sometimes in random, but what he couldn't explain was why Black? He could only assume it meant that he was dangerous but it usually meant Voldemort's presence was…

Horror dawned in Harry's eyes.

"Harry, Harry…what is it? What's wrong?" Hermione asked worriedly. Ron looked concern.

"Merlin I'm an idiot!" Harry said. "I should have known...Why didn't I think of it?!"

"What mate?" Ron asked.

"Black sneaking out late at night…Slytherin…Polyjuice potion…Imposter…Age limit. Don't you see?!" Harry looked at them. Hermione and Ron looked at him almost as if he's insane. "My scar hurts every time with Black. He's using Polyjuice potion.

"Black isn't  _involve_  with Voldemort...It's because Black  _IS_  Voldemort."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *grins evilly* Cliffhanger. It's evil! I am honestly surprised you guys haven't guess THAT. Do you know what's evil? I'll leave the chapter till here. See ya next time!


	17. Chapter 17

Harry had quickly ran to Dumbledore and told him about Black actually Voldemort. Dumbledore looked contemplative and told him, "Thank you for telling me this, Harry, but I don't think Mr. Black is Voldemort. I suggest you put it out of your mind and focus on the Tournament."

"B-but, sir—" Harry protested.

"Harry, you know I would  _never_ allow putting my students in danger." Dumbledore said, his voice with an edge. Harry closed his mouth. He would have said that he had let Quirrell in, but that didn't seem OK by the look of the Headmaster's face.

That was what Dumbledore said.

Harry prepared his potions in his potions class. He looked up and saw Black there with Theo and Daphne. The two of them looked concern and for the first time, Harry had noticed Black looked very pale, a bit sick and had eye bags under his eyes like he hadn't been sleeping well. He watched as Black gave Theo and Daphne a tired smile.

He wondered for a brief moment if Black was Voldemort but then the theory was tossed out of the window. If Black was Voldemort, then how could Harry touch him? Why was he here? It didn't explain.

It suddenly occurred to Harry that if Black was Voldemort, then he would have seen "Voldemort" or "Tom Riddle" in the Marauder's map. Plus if Black was an imposter, the map would have shown it to him. So no Polyjuice, no Voldemort.

So no, Jack Black wasn't Voldemort.

But that doesn't mean he could be  _involved_  with him.

Still, it didn't explain why Harry's scar hurt sometimes when he looked at Black in the eye. Keyword;  _Sometimes_.

"Mr. Black, stay behind." Snape said as the students handed him a vial of their work. Harry, after what he had learnt his lessons the last time he tried to eavesdrop, walked out of the room. He spun round just in time for the door slam in front of his face. He placed his ear behind the door and listened.

"…I have no idea why you did that you dunderhead." Snape muttered.

"Oh Sevvie…" There was a pause and Harry could only gape for a moment before he shook his head. "I'm fine!"

"You are most definitely not!" Snape snapped. "What you did was the most idiotic thing I have ever heard? What are you now? A Gryffindor."

"Aw! Professor, you wound me."

Harry frowned when he noticed it seemed the relationship between Black and Snape seemed OK.

"Why did you even touch it?" Snape muttered and there was a shuffle there. "It's a miracle you're here."

"Well, it's not my fault that it was lying there…"

"Still, I could have bought you more time! But no, you idiotic dunderhead did a very foolish thing and kept this from me?!"

"Seriously, I have always known you care but this is touching!" Black said. Harry could imagine Snape glaring at the brunette.

"Luckily, you'll be fine for a couple of days and maybe that disgusting condition of yours will diminished. Until then, stay away from watermelons Mr. Black." Snape said while Harry's brows furrowed. _Watermelons?_  He thought.

"Ew! No thanks, I'm good. I prefer Kiwis." Black said.

"Dismiss."

Harry ducked to the side just in time as Black stormed out of the room, not looking back as he headed to his next class.

* * *

His brows furrowed as he scanned the pages of the book. Harry was at the library, looking for spells that could be useful for the Third Task. Something caught his eye, and saw the word 'Patronus Charm'.

Harry, of course, knew this spell. He had learnt it from Lupin in his third year.

_This ancient and mysterious charm conjures a magical guardian, a projection of all your most positive feelings. The Patronus Charm is difficult, and many witches and wizards are unable to produce a full, corporeal Patronus, a guardian which generally takes the shape of the animal with whom they share the deepest affinity. You may suspect, but you will never truly know what form your Patronus will take until you succeed in conjuring it._

His mouth went upwards as his thoughts went to his form of his Patronus; A Stag. Then his brows furrowed deeper when his eyes landed something on the page.

_However, your Patronus can change forms if you went through an emotional upheaval of sort. Such as the Patronus often mutates to take the image of the love of one's life. They may take the form of their love one's Patronus form._

* * *

As the Third Task arrived, Harry was seated at the Gryffindor table on the morning with his friends. He watched as an owl arrived for Hermione, carrying her morning copy of the Dailey Prophet. She unfolded the paper, glanced at the front page, and spat out a mouthful of pumpkin juice all over it.

"What?" Harry and Ron said simultaneously.

"Nothing!" Hermione said quickly as she tried to shove the paper out of sight but Ron had snatched it.

Ron stared at the headlines, his mouth dropped open. "No way. Not today. That old cow."

"What?" Harry frowned. "Rita Skeeter again?"

"No," Ron tried to hide the paper out of sight.

"It's about me, isn't it?" Harry sighed. What? It wasn't surprising if the Daily Prophet was talking about it. He was sort of used to people looking at him and all saying "It's Harry Potter! The Boy Who Lived!".

"No…"

Before Harry could demand to see the paper, Draco Malfoy shouted across the Great Hall from the Slytherin table.

"Hey, Potter! Potter! How's your head? You feeling all right? Sure you're not going to go berserk on us?"

Malfoy was holding a copy of the Daily Prophet too. Slytherins up and down the table were sniggering, twisting in their seats to see Harry's reaction.

"Let me see it," Harry said to Ron. "Give it here."

Very reluctantly, Ron handed over the newspaper. Harry turned it over and found himself staring at his own picture, beneath the banner headline:

' **HARRY POTTER DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS'**

 _The boy who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is unstable and possibly dangerous_ , writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent.  _Alarming evidence has recently come to light about Harry Potter's strange behavior, which casts doubts upon his suitability to compete in a demanding competition like the Triwizard Tournament, or even to attend Hogwarts School_.

_Potter, the Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal, regularly collapses at school, and is often heard to complain of pain in the scar on his forehead (relic of the curse with which You-Know-Who attempted to kill him). On Monday last, midway through a Divination lesson, your Daily Prophet reporter witnessed Potter storming from the class, claiming that his scar was hurting too badly to continue studying._

_It is possible, say top experts at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, that Potters brain was affected by the attack inflicted upon him by You- Know-Who, and that his insistence that the scar is still hurting is an expression of his deep-seated confusion._

_"He might even be pretending," said one specialist. "This could be a plea for attention."_

_The Daily Prophet, however, has unearthed worrying facts about Harry Potter that Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, has carefully concealed from the wizarding public. "Potter can speak Parseltongue," reveals Draco Malfoy, a Hogwarts fourth year. "There were a lot of attacks on students a couple of years ago, and most people thought Potter was behind them after they saw him lose his temper at a dueling club and set a snake on another boy. It was all hushed up, though. But he's made friends with werewolves and giants too. We think he'd do anything for a bit of power."_

_Parseltongue, the ability to converse with snakes, has long been considered a Dark Art. Indeed, the most famous Parselmouth of our times is none other than You-Know-Who himself. A member of the Dark Force Defense League, who wished to remain unnamed, stated that he would regard any wizard who could speak Parseltongue "as worthy of investigation. Personally, I would be highly suspicious of anybody who could converse with snakes, as serpents are often used in the worst kinds of Dark Magic, and are historically associated with evildoers." Similarly, "anyone who seeks out the company of such vicious creatures as werewolves and giants would appear to have a fondness for violence."_

_Albus Dumbledore should surely consider whether a boy such as this should be allowed to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. Some fear that Potter might resort to the Dark Arts in his desperation to win the tournament, the third task of which takes place this evening._

* * *

Jack raised his eyebrow as he put down the newspaper. He elbowed Draco on the ribs, who winced and then glared at him. "Did you seriously have to do that?!" Jack said.

"It's called 'fun' Black, I'm sure you have heard of it." Draco rolled his eye.

"My definition of fun is snowballs and funtimes." Jack snarked a bit. Then he winced, looking down at his left arm. He pulled back his sleeves. A bandage wrapped around his left fore arm.

"The meaning of fun is funtimes," Theo grinned as Jack looked up. "Is bed included?"

Daphne slapped his shoulder. Hard.

"Ouch!"

"Don't make comments like that, Ugh." Daphne grimaced. "Is that all you can ever think about?!"

"Don't lie Daphs, I'm sure you imagined yourself with Viktor…" Pansy grinned while Daphne's cheek reddened. Theo gritted his teeth.

"I do not!"

"Don't lie! I'm sure you have looked through the lingerie magazine when no one is looking…" Pansy said in a sing along while Daphne's face reddened darker. The boys (Jack, Draco, Goyle, and Crabbe) stifled their laughs while Theo glared.

"Well," Daphne straightened her posture. "My mother would be proud, wouldn't she?" She said, trying to gather much of her dignity and show confidence.

Draco snorted. "I'm sure would love to hear his own daughter talking about sex."

Daphne glared at him.

"Well I gotta go, I need to talk to my father about something." Draco muttered as he left the Great Hall.

* * *

"I suppose so," Harry sighed. Hermione had quickly left a few seconds ago to the library. He had noticed she had been going there quite a lot of times but it was probably had to do with the Elves right and exams coming.

Just then, Professor McGonagall came walking alongside the Gryffindor table toward him. "Potter, the champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast," she said.

"But the task's not till tonight!" Harry spluttered.

"I'm aware of that, Potter," Professor McGonagall said. "The champions' families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is simply a chance for you to greet them." She moved away. Harry gaped after her.

"She doesn't expect the Dursleys to turn up, does she?" Harry wondered, turning to Ron.

"Dunno," said Ron. "Harry, I'd better hurry, I'm going to be late for Binns. See you later."

Harry finished his breakfast in the emptying Great Hall. He saw Fleur Delacour get up from the Ravenclaw table and join Black as he crossed to the side chamber and entered. Krum slouched off to join them shortly afterward. Harry stayed where he was. He really didn't want to go into the chamber. He had no family - no family who would turn up to see him risk his life, anyway. But just as he was getting up, thinking that he might as well go up to the library and do a spot more hex research, the door of the side chamber opened, and Black stuck his head out.

"Harry, come on, they're waiting for you!" Black called, looking back at him.

Sometimes, Black acted like a completely different person and acted like nothing bad ever happened between him. It was confusing to Harry.

He shook his head as he entered to the chamber, wondering who's waiting for him. The Dursleys? Surely not, he was 100% sure they did NOT like magic. At all. He spotted Black talking to a brunette woman and could only assume it was his mother, and a little girl who remarkably looked like Black. She looked around 10 years old maybe. Brown hair and brown eyes. Harry could only assume she must be Black's sister.

Harry wondered now what was going to happen in the Third Task. He was still sure Black was somehow involved of it. He may or may not have put his name in the cup, but Black was involved.

Viktor Krum was over in a corner, conversing with his dark-haired mother and father in rapid Bulgarian. On the other side of the room, Fleur was jabbering away in French to her mother. Fleur's little sister, Gabrielle, was holding her mother's hand. Then he saw Mrs. Weasley and Bill standing in front of the fireplace, beaming at him. "Surprise!" Mrs. Weasley said excitedly as he smiled broadly and walked over to them.

"Thought we'd come and watch you. Harry!" She bent down and kissed him on the cheek.

"You all right?" Bill grinned. "Charlie wanted to come, but he couldn't get time off. He said you were incredible against the Horntail."

Fleur Delacour, Harry noticed, was eyeing Bill with great interest over her mother's shoulder. Harry could tell she had no objection whatsoever to long hair or earrings with fangs on them.

"This is really nice of you," Harry muttered to Mrs. Weasley. "I thought for a moment - the Dursleys -"

"Hmm," Mrs. Weasley pursued her lips.

"It's great being back here," Bill looked around. "Haven't seen this place for five years. Is that picture of the mad knight still around? Sir Cadogan?"

"Oh yeah," said Harry, who had met Sir Cadogan the previous year.

"And the Fat Lady?" Bill wondered.

"She was here in my time," Mrs. Weasley said. "She gave me such a telling off one night when I got back to the dormitory at four in the morning -"

"What were you doing out of your dormitory at four in the morning?" Bill questioned.

"Your father and I had been for a nighttime stroll," Mrs. Weasley grinned. "He got caught by Apollyon Pringle - he was the caretaker in those days - your father's still got the marks."

"Fancy giving us a tour, Harry?" Bill turned the raven-haired boy.

"Yeah, okay," said Harry, and they made their way back toward the door into the Great Hall. However, as they passed the Black family. The brunette woman who Black was talking to looked up, her face curious.

"Harry Potter?" she wondered.

"Yeah," Harry nodded slowly. He could only assume this woman must be Black's mother. They do assemble a lot to each other. Short brown hair, Brown eyes, tanned skin with an American accent.

"Curious," she muttered, glancing at her son.

Black, who was standing next to her, rolled his eyes and led her away.

* * *

Harry enjoyed walking outside with Bill and Mrs. Weasley.

"How's Percy?" Harry asked as they walked around the greenhouses.

"Not good," said Bill.

"He's very upset," said Mrs. Weasley, lowering her voice and glancing around. "The Ministry wants to keep Mr. Crouch's disappearance quiet, but Percy's been hauled in for questioning about the instructions Mr. Crouch has been sending in. They seem to think there's a chance they weren't genuinely written by him. Percy's been under a lot of strain. They're not letting him fill in for Mr. Crouch as the fifth judge tonight. Cornelius Fudge is going to be doing it."

They returned to the castle for lunch.

"Mum - Bill!" said Ron, looking stunned, as he joined the Gryffindor table. "What're you doing here?"

"Come to watch Harry in the last task!" said Mrs. Weasley brightly. "I must say, it makes a lovely change, not having to cook. How was your exam?"

"Oh… okay," said Ron. "Couldn't remember all the goblin rebels' names, so I invented a few. It's all right," he said, helping himself to a Cornish pasty, while Mrs. Weasley looked stern, "they're all called stuff like Bodrod the Bearded and Urg the Unclean; it wasn't hard."

Fred, George, and Ginny came to sit next to them too, and Harry was having such a good time he felt almost as though he were back at the Burrow; he had forgotten to worry about that evening's task, and not until Hermione turned up, halfway through lunch, did he remember that she had had a brainwave about Rita Skeeter.

"Are you going to tell us -?"

Hermione shook her head warningly and glanced at Mrs. Weasley.

"Hello, Hermione," said Mrs. Weasley, much more stiffly than usual.

"Hello," said Hermione, her smile faltering at the cold expression on Mrs. Weasley's face.

Harry looked between them, then said, "Mrs. Weasley, you didn't believe that rubbish Rita Skeeter wrote in Witch Weekly, did you? Because Hermione's not my girlfriend."

"Oh!" said Mrs. Weasley "No - of course I didn't!"

But she became considerably warmer toward Hermione after that.

Harry, Bill, and Mrs. Weasley whiled away the afternoon with a long walk around the castle, and then returned to the Great Hall for the evening feast. Ludo Bagman and Cornelius Fudge had joined the staff table now. Bagman looked quite cheerful, but Cornelius Fudge, who was sitting next to Madame Maxime, looked stern and was not talking. Madame Maxime was concentrating on her plate, and Harry thought her eyes looked red. Hagrid kept glancing along the table at her.

There were more courses than usual, but Harry, who was starting to feel really nervous now, didn't eat much. As the enchanted ceiling overhead began to fade from blue to a dusky purple, Dumbledore rose to his feet at the staff table, and silence fell.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now."

Harry got up. The Gryffindors all along the table were applauding him; the Weasleys and Hermione all wished him good luck, and he headed off out of the Great Hall with Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor.

"Feeling all right. Harry?" Bagman asked as they went down the stone steps onto the grounds. "Confident?"

"I'm okay," said Harry. It was sort of true; he was nervous, but he kept running over all the hexes and spells he had been practicing in his mind as they walked, and the knowledge that he could remember them all made him feel better.

They walked onto the Quidditch field, which was now completely unrecognizable. A twenty-foot-high hedge ran all the way around the edge of it. There was a gap right in front of them: the entrance to the vast maze. The passage beyond it looked dark and creepy.

Five minutes later, the stands had begun to fill; the air was full of excited voices and the rumbling of feet as the hundreds of students filed into their seats. The sky was a deep, clear blue now, and the first stars were starting to appear. Hagrid, Professor Moody, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick came walking into the stadium and approached Bagman and the champions. They were wearing large, red, luminous stars on their hats, all except Hagrid, who had his on the back of his moleskin vest.

"We are going to be patrolling the outside of the maze," said Professor McGonagall to the champions. "If you get into difficulty, and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air, and one of us will come and get you, do you understand?"

The champions nodded.

"Off you go, then!" said Bagman brightly to the four patrollers.

"Good luck. Harry," Hagrid whispered, and the four of them walked away in different directions, to station themselves around the maze. Bagman now pointed his wand at his throat, muttered,

"Sonorus," and his magically magnified voice echoed into the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! In first place, with eighty-five points – Mr. Jack Black , of Hogwarts School!" The cheers and applause (mostly from Slytherin and powerful looking people) sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky.

"In second place, with eighty points each - Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute and Mr. Harry Potter, of Hogwarts School." More applause. "And in third place – Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!"

Harry could just make out Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, and Hermione applauding Fleur politely, halfway up the stands. He waved up at them, and they waved back, beaming at him.

"So… on my whistle, Jack!" said Bagman. "Three - two - one -"

Bagman gave a short blast on his whistle, and Harry watched as Black walked determinedly into the maze. His formed disappeared to the darkness. Harry's eyes narrowed in suspicion, wondering what was going to happen since Black was involved putting his name in the cup and with Voldemort. He recalled Black clutching his arm back in September when Malfoy made a bet by playing Quidditch. He recalled all the suspicious things he found; His scar hurt when his eyes met Black's, Black entering to the Forbidden Forest, Black having a conversation with someone just after the First Task, Black asking Snape a poisonous ingredient, Black sneaking out in the middle of night in the dark corridors of Hogwarts instead of the Forbidden Forest, Black and Malfoy walking down the first floor covered in dirt, Black's conversation with Snape something about "condition", and Black had disappeared in school for a couple of days.

"Alright, you two." Bagman said, looking at Harry and Viktor. Then a whistle blew.

Viktor and Harry entered into the maze.

The towering hedges cast black shadows across the path, and, whether because they were so tall and thick or because they had been enchanted, the sound of the surrounding crowd was silenced the moment they entered the maze. Harry felt almost as though he were underwater again. He pulled out his wand, muttered, "Lumos," and heard Viktor do the same just behind him.

After about fifty yards, they reached a fork. They looked at each other.

Viktor didn't glance back at him as he took the right one while Harry took the left. He sped up. His chosen path seemed completely

Harry heard Bagman's whistle for the third time.

Fleur had entered the maze. Harry sped up. His chosen path seemed completely deserted. He turned right, and hurried on, holding his wand high over his head, trying to see as far ahead as possible. Still, there was nothing in sight.

All of the champions were now inside.


	18. Chapter 18

Harry kept looking behind him. The old feeling that he was being watched was upon him. The maze was growing darker with every passing minute as the sky overhead deepened to navy. He reached a second fork. 

“Point Me,” he whispered to his wand, holding it flat in his palm.

The wand spun around once and pointed toward his right, into solid hedge. That way was north, and he knew that he needed to go northwest for the center of the maze. The best he could do was to take the left fork and go right again as soon as possible.

The path ahead was empty too, and when Harry reached a right turn and took it, he again found his way unblocked. Harry didn’t know why, but the lack of obstacles was unnerving him. Surely he should have met something by now? It felt as though the maze were luring him into a false sense of security.

He wondered for a brief moment how he was going to handle it?

He turned left and then he saw a dementor gliding toward him. Harry’s eyes widened as he felt coldness spread all over him. He knew what he had to do, but the effects were overcoming him…

He closed his eyes as he thought of the happiest memory he could find, concentrating it. Raising his wand, he cried, “ _Expecto Patronum_!”

A silver stag erupted from the end of Harry’s wand and galloped toward the dementor, which fell back and tripped over the hem of its robes… Harry had never seen a dementor stumble.

Emerald eyes widened as realization hit him. Advancing on the creature, his wand raised, his posture determined. “Wait! You’re a boggart! _Riddikulus_!”

Harry watched as the shape-shifter exploded to a wisp of a smoke and his patronus faded. He quietly moved on, quickly as he could, using his ears as he held his wand once more.

Jack walked down the dark path, his wand raised, his posture determined. Anyone who looked at him would see a warrior ready for a fight, a battle. He turned around the corner and almost yelped in surprise.

In front of him was a creature. Big as a Hippogriff. Its fur was red, but it was part bull and part serpent.

It was an Ophiotaurus.

This creature was rare. Not easy to find. According to Greek Mythology (from Muggles), it was said it could grant you powers to defeat gods to whoever burned them. But what they the Muggles said were wrong. Ophiotaurus were rather fiercely loyal and protective of its savior. Very cautious, and dangerous. But they were not quite as volatile as a Cerberus. At least. The only power they could give you was protection.

If Jack wasn’t in the task, he would have stared at the wonderful creature in fascination and awe. But he knew it was not the time and he had to make sure he complete his _task_.

He held his wand firmly as the creature looked up. Yellow eyes shot at his brown ones. Cautiously, he tip-toe as he kept eye-contact with a Ophiotaurus. As long as you don’t pose a threat to them, it would be all OK. Just one wrong move and all hell will break loose.

_Crunch!_

Jack winced, one eyes closed when he realized he stepped on a stick. He opened his other eye and found the Ophiotaurus stood a little tall. Its tail moving from side to side, reminding Jack of a cobra.

Then it started to screech that made his shoulders tensed.

 _Not good_ , Jack thought.

The creature started to lunge towards him, and Jack managed to throw himself to the side. His body knocked to the hedge and he winced when one of the thorns stung against his skin. But that wasn’t important, his attention fixed on the Ophiotaurus.

“ _Duratus_!” He cried, his wand raised. Blue light erupted from the end of his wand, and blast the creature on the neck. The creature screeched again and Jack, without a thought, quickly ran down the path.

“ _Stupefy_!” He threw the spell over his shoulder. He heard the creature cry but he didn’t dare look back as he turned to his right, left, right, left, left. He glanced back and found the creature catching up with him.

 _Damn part bull!_ He thought.

Then an idea hit him. He didn’t like it but he knew he had to do it so he quickly spun around and raised his wand at the creature that was coming 20 feet towards him. With as much as magic he let out, he cried, “ _Dolemus_!”

The Ophiotaurus cried. Its eyes burning. Jack spun around and ran around the corner. He had used the spell Krum used in the First Task. The Conjunctivitus Curse.

He shook his head, pushing those thoughts away as he ignored the painful cries of the Ophiotaurus, knowing that if he didn’t then he would fail his _mission_.

Harry found himself in a dead end. He sighed as he went back to where he came from. He did the the Four-Point Spell again and found that he was going too far north. He turned back, took a left turn when a scream shattered the silence.

His eyes widened when he recognized it.

“Fleur?!” he called out, following that voice.

What had happened to her? Her scream must have come somewhere ahead. Before he could think further, something wrapped around his right wrist, then to his left ankles. He looked and saw undergrowth wrapping around his wrist and ankle. Devil’s Snare. He struggled using his left hand to grab his wand and then cried out the first spell he thought, “ _Lumos Solem_!”

Bright light filled his vision and Harry could feel the vines that were wrapped around him lossened its grip and dropped to the ground. He didn’t look back as he quickly ran down the path, wondering what was happening to Fleur. Then a red light shot through the sky.

Jack stepped over Fleur’s unconscious body. He paused and glanced at her before shaking his head and heading down the path. He knew he had to knock her out. After all, she was stepping in his way.

He turned left, then right, then another right. He stopped when he saw an odd golden mist floating ahead of him. He raised his wand and did a non-verbally scanning spell. It was a Limbo Mist. He had heard of them back in America, but he didn’t know what they’d do. Or how dangerous was it. And especially how to remove it.

Taking a deep breath, he ran through the Limbo Mist.

Then he felt his head dizzy—almost as if everything turned upside down. He was hanging from the ground, with his hair on the end, threatening to fall into the bottomless sky.

 _Damn it_! Jack thought.

He hate the reverse gravity! He shook his head as he thought rationally, trying to come up a way to get out of this. _What should I do? What should I do? How do I get out of here…_ He tried to cool his head down, relaxing his muscles. Soon, his head hit the ground and felt the world righted itself.

“Ugh…”

His chest rose and fell as he pulled himself up. His wand lay there and he quickly picked it up and then jogged down the path, away from the Limbo Mist.

Harry found himself facing a Blast-Ended Skrewt. It was bigger, he thought. Ten feet long, it looked more like a giant scorpion than anything. Its long sting was curled over its back. Its thick armor glinted in the light from Harry’s wand, which he pointed at it. 

“ _Stupefy_!”

The spell hit the skrewt’s armor and rebounded; Harry ducked just in time, but could smell burning hair; it had singed the top of his head. The skrewt issued a blast of fire from its end and flew forward toward him.

“ _Impedimenta_!” Harry yelled. The spell hit the skrewt’s armor again and ricocheted off; Harry staggered back a few paces and fell over.

“ _IMPEDIMENTA_!”

The skrewt was inches from him when it froze - he had managed to hit it on its fleshy, shell-less underside. Panting, Harry pushed himself away from it and ran, hard, in the opposite direction - the Impediment Curse was not permanent; the skrewt would be regaining the use of its legs at any moment.

He took a right path and hit a dead end, a right, and hit another; forcing himself to stop, heart hammering, he performed the Four-Point Spell again, backtracked, and chose a path that would take him northwest.

He had been hurrying along the new path for a few minutes, when he heard something in the path running parallel to his own that made him stop dead. 

“Stupefy!” Krum threw a spell towards him. Harry ducked.

“ _Petrificus Totalus_!” Harry cried, his wand pointed to Krum.

Krum managed to block that spell by pulling up a shield. “ _Experlliarmus_!”

Harry’s wand landed on Krum’s hand. Krum smirked, wand raised. “ _Cruci_ —“

“ _Impedimenta_!”

Harry watched as Krum’s body froze before he dropped to the ground. Emerald eyes looked up and saw Jack Black standing over Viktor’s Krum body, his wand twirling around his fingers and a smirk on his face.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Jack Black said. “I find you here with Viktor and you nearly got toast.” Then a frown appeared on his face as his eyes went to Krum, “Poor him.”

“Why did you do that?” Harry demanded as he picked up his wand.

“Uh, do you ever hear of a Cruciatus Curse?” Black rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you do.”

“Why save me?”

Black raised his eyebrow. “A favor.” Then he disappeared to another path as Harry stared at him in confusion.

Harry shook his head. “Slytherins,” he muttered as he send a red spark using Krum’s wand. Then he left it next to Krum before he went to the opposite direction of where Black went.

It was weird that Black helped him. He wondered why the hell Krum was about to throw a Cruciatus curse in his way? And mostly why would Black save him? Black did say a few months ago he would like Harry to have a few broken bones, but why did he save him? Did it have something to do whatever Black was up to?

Harry used the Four-Point Spell, making sure he was moving in the right direction. It was between him and Jack Black now. His desire to reach the cup first was now burning stronger than ever. He wanted to reach the cup before Black. He wasn’t going to let a Slytherin win.

Sometimes he hit dead ends, but the increasing darkness made him feel sure he was getting near the heart of the maze. Then, as he strode down a long, straight path, he saw movement once again, and his beam of wandlight hit an extraordinary creature, one which he had only seen in picture form, in his Monster Book of Monsters.

It was a sphinx. It had the body of an over-large lion: great clawed paws and a long yellowish tail ending in a brown tuft. Its head, however, was that of a woman. She turned her long, almond-shaped eyes upon Harry as he approached. He raised his wand, hesitating. She was not crouching as if to spring, but pacing from side to side of the path, blocking his progress. Then she spoke, in a deep, hoarse voice.

“You are very near your goal. The quickest way is past me.”

“So… so will you move, please?” Harry asked, even though he knew what the answer was going to be.

“No,” The sphinx said, continuing to pace. “Not unless you can answer my riddle. Answer on your first guess - I let you pass. Answer wrongly - I attack. Remain silent – I will let you walk away from me unscathed.”

Harry’s stomach slipped several notches. It was Hermione who was good at this sort of thing, not him. He weighed his chances. If the riddle was too hard, he could keep silent, get away from the sphinx unharmed, and try and find an alternative route to the center.

“Okay,” He nodded. “Can I hear the riddle?”

The sphinx sat down upon her hind legs, in the very middle of the path, and recited:

“ _First think of the person who lives in disguise,_  
Who deals in secrets and tells naught but lies.   
Next, tell me what’s always the last thing to mend,   
The middle of middle and end of the end?   
And finally give me the sound often heard,   
During the search for a hard-to-find word.   
Now string them together, and answer me this,   
Which creature would you be unwilling to kiss?”

Harry gaped at her.

“Could I have it again… more slowly?” he asked tentatively. She blinked at him, smiled, and repeated the poem. “All the clues add up to a creature I wouldn’t want to kiss?”

She merely smiled her mysterious smile. Harry took that for a “yes.” Harry cast his mind around. There were plenty of animals he wouldn’t want to kiss; his immediate thought was a Blast-Ended Skrewt, but something told him that wasn’t the answer. He’d have to try and work out the clues… 

“A person in disguise,” Harry muttered, staring at her, “who lies… er… that’d be a - an impostor. No, that’s not my guess! A - a spy? I’ll come back to that… could you give me the next clue again, please?”

She repeated the next lines of the poem.

“‘The last thing to mend,’” Harry repeated. “Er… no idea… ‘middle of middle’… could I have the last bit again?”

She gave him the last four lines.

“‘The sound often heard during the search for a hard-to-find word,’” said Harry. “Er… that’d be… er… hang on - ‘er’! Er’s a sound!”

The sphinx smiled at him.

“Spy… er… spy… er…” Harry muttered, pacing up and down. “A creature I wouldn’t want to kiss… a spider!”

The sphinx smiled more broadly. She got up, stretched her front legs, and then moved aside for him to pass.

“Thanks!” Harry smiled, and, amazed at his own brilliance, he dashed forward.

He had to be close now, he had to be… His wand was telling him he was bang on course; as long as he didn’t meet anything too horrible, he might have a chance… 

Harry broke into a run. He had a choice of paths up ahead. “Point Me!” he whispered again to his wand, and it spun around and pointed him to the right-hand one. He dashed up this one and saw light ahead. The Triwizard Cup was gleaming on a plinth a hundred yards away.

Harry ran towards the cup, knowing that he’ll reach it…Black wasn’t there yet…

Then he saw something in the corner of his eye. There was a strange stump, and a shadow growing over one of the dark path. It was moving so quick so Harry quickly turned on the direction and cried, “ _Stupefy_!”

The spell missed. Harry’s eyes widened when he saw a gigantic spider.

“ _Stupefy_!” Harry yelled; the spell hit the spider’s gigantic, hairy black body, but for all the good it did, he might as well have thrown a stone at it; the spider jerked, scuttled around, and ran at Harry.

“ _Stupefy_! _Impedimenta_! _Stupefy_!”

But it was no use - the spider was either so large, or so magical, that the spells were doing no more than aggravating it. Harry had one horrifying glimpse of eight shining black eyes and razor-sharp pincers before it was upon him.

He was lifted into the air in its front legs; struggling madly, he tried to kick it; his leg connected with the pincers and next moment he was in excruciating pain.

Then suddenly, Harry fell twelve feet from the air to the ground.  He winced when his injured leg crashed beneath him. Looking up, he could see the spider. Its knees seem to appear on the opposite side of its legs.

Harry looked up and saw Jack Black standing there, his wand raised at the spider, eyes narrowed.

“ _Incarcerous_!”

Ropes were wrapped around the spiders eight legs, causing the creature to drop to the ground.

“Hey! Help me here,” Jack called. Without thinking, Harry lifted his wand to the spider and both the male cried, “ _Stupefy_!”

They watched as their combined magic towards the spider; then the creature stopped moving.

“Are you alright?” Jack turned towards him. His eyes narrowed when he saw Harry’s injury. Harry looked at his leg and saw it was bleeding freely. He could see some sort of thick, gluey secretion from the spider’s pincers on his torn robes.

“Ouch. That’s gotta hurt.”

He tried to get up, but his leg was shaking badly and did not want to support his weight.

“Whoah, slow down, would ya!” Black reached to his side and lifted Harry’s arm around his shoulder, “I’ve got ya! I’ve got ya!” He lowered Harry to the ground and then pointed his wand at Harry’s leg. Harry winced. “It’s okay, it’s okay, just…you’re gonna be alright.” he said gently that almost made Harry’s nerves calm. Almost. Black sounded like he was speaking to a child.

“Now,” Jack muttered. “ _Episky_! _Sanguinem Instaurabo!”_

Harry watched as his injured leg seemed OK. The blood was gone. It looked like as if he was never injured before. Especially his sprained ankle seemed OK.

“Why?” Harry asked, looking to Jack’s brown eyes.

“You owe me another favor.” Jack rolled his eyes as he stood up.

Harry’s eyes landed on the Triwizard Cup. He closed his eyes, feeling like he was going to regret this. He swallowed and said, “Then take the Cup.”

Jack blinked in surprise. “W-what?”

“Take it, then. You helped me with the egg, and then you saved my life twice.” Harry said. He wasn’t sure of Jack’s motives. Everything about him was confusing. All his suspicious activity. _But_ Harry recalled times when Jack would help people and his mischievous personality. He remembered Jack helping Hermione to the infirmary; Jack wishing him luck and warn him that the Slytherin wouldn’t like him now that he’s the 2 nd Hogwarts champion, getting Harry back to his dormitory instead of leaving him in the corridors, Jack helping him with the egg even though Harry didn’t tell him about the dragons. As much as he found Jack suspicious, there didn’t seem to be anything evil about him. Sure he may sometimes act arrogant and lots of sneaking around, but that didn’t mean he’s evil.

Why would a Death Eater save his life?

Unless Jack wasn’t.

Unless Jack wasn’t really up to something. Maybe he had been under Imperius curse. Maybe he and his gang were just playing around and nothing malicious.

He looked straight into Jack’s brown eyes. He didn’t feel his scar hurt or anything.

Harry sighed. It didn’t matter to him if Jack took the cup anymore. Hogwarts would still win. Besides, he didn’t want attention anyway.

That didn’t mean he liked a Slytherin to win.

“No, you deserved.” Jack shook his head. “I only joined for the fun.”

“B-but—“

“They wouldn’t want a Slytherin champion to win. Nearly everyone expects you to win, Harry.” Jack said. Then he smirk, “Besides, I bet you would love to see Draco’s face when he sees you holding it.”

Grudgingly, Harry wouldn’t mind to see Malfoy’s face.

“Go on!” Jack nodded towards the cup, leaning against the hedges, arms crossed. “It’s all yours.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, wondering why would a Slytherin allow him to take the cup. “Why did you help me with the egg?” It was the same question he had asked at the Yule Ball. He had wondered at that time, trying to find some ulterior motives. But nothing. Why would he help him? Did Jack wanted him to win?

Jack sighed. “Because Potter, I want to prove you I’m not like other Slytherins.”

“What?”

“I’m not cruel,” Jack said. For another time, Harry could see he looked tired. “I don’t like people being biased against the Slytherins. You folks think we’re evil and want to dominate the world or something,” he rolled his eyes. “I want to prove you wrong. Not all of us are black and white, there are grey areas too. You can’t just proclaim that Slytherins are evil just because there are dark wizards there. Ambition and cunning is a virtue. Not evil. Not all Slytherins are evil.”

Then he paused for a moment, Jack stared into space, and said quietly, “‘Never judge a book by its cover’, muggles would say.”

Harry recalled that Jack Black had put the stop of bullying between Slytherins and Hufflepuff. He recalled the awe and respect look of the younger years look when they saw Jack Black. How they all declared him a ‘nice Slytherin’.

Jack shook his head and seemed to snap out of it. “Just take the cup Harry.” He said.

Harry glanced at the Cup and then at Jack.

“I promise I’m not going to hex you or anything.” Jack rolled his eyes. Then he said softly,  “You have to believe me.”

For one moment, Harry saw himself holding the Triwizard Cup aloft, heard the roar of the crowd, saw Cho’s face shining with admiration, more clearly than he had ever seen it before… and then the picture faded, and he found himself staring at Jack’s shadowy, tired face.

“Both of us,” Harry said.

“What?” Jack blinked in shock.

“We’ll take it at the same time. It’s still a Hogwarts victory. We’ll tie for it.”

Jack grimace. “No way I’m uniting with a Gryffindor.”

“You’re the one who said not to be biased!”

“I know, that doesn’t mean I want to win.” Jack snapped. “Just take it so we could get out of here. I’m getting tired and I really need to get to the infirmary.” Harry noted the eyebags under Jack’s eyes, his skin pale, sweat on his forehead.

“Harry, please…” Jack pleaded as he held onto the hedge. “Do me a favor and take the cup so I can get out of here.”

Harry sighed before walking towards where the cup stood. When he had reached it, he glanced at Jack, who nodded and looked ready to fall asleep.

“Are you sure?”

Jack nearly groaned in frustration. “YES!” he snapped.

Harry took a deep breath before he grasped the handle of the Cup.

Instantly, Harry felt a jerk somewhere behind his navel. His feet had left the ground. He could not unclench the hand holding the Triwizard Cup; it was pulling him onward in a howl of wind and swirling color.

Jack watched as Harry disappeared in a flash. His mouth formed into a smirk as his eyes twinkled. All the tiredness seemed to be gone. His mission was complete.

He pulled out something out of his pocket. A pencil. But it was actually a Portkey.

“My Lord.” Jack whispered the activation key.

Then instantly, Jack disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry X-mas!


	19. Chapter 19

Harry felt his feet slam into the ground; his injured leg gave way, and he fell forward; his hand let go of the Triwizard Cup at last. He raised his head.

He frowned when he realized he had left the Hogwarts grounds completely; he had obviously traveled miles - perhaps hundreds of miles - for even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone. He was standing instead in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to their right. A hill rose above them to their left. Harry could just make out the outline of a fine old house on the hillside.

Harry wondered if this was supposed to be part of the task. He kept looking around him. Then there was a strange feeling someone was watching him.

Someone was coming, he thought as he pulled out his wand.

He frowned when he felt something wrong. Very _wrong_. Literally he could _feel_ it. Before Harry could think further, he saw a figure walking steadily towards him between the graves.

Harry couldn't make out a face, but from the way it was walking and holding its arms, he could tell that it was carrying something. Whoever it was, he was short, and wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over his head to obscure his face. And - several paces nearer, the gap between them closing all the time - Harry saw that the thing in the persons arms looked like a baby… or was it merely a bundle of robes?

Harry lowered his wand slightly, confused. The approaching figure stopped beside a towering marble headstone, only six feet from him. Harry squinted the figure closely…

And then, without warning, Harry's scar exploded with pain. It was agony such as he had never felt in all his life; his wand slipped from his fingers as he put his hands over his face; his knees buckled; he was on the ground and he could see nothing at all; his head was about to split open.

Then the pain in his scar reached such a pitch that he retched, and then it diminished. He opened his eyes and saw a blurry figure. He felt himself being pulled to his feet

The short man in the cloak had put down his bundle, lit his wand, and was dragging Harry toward the marble headstone. Harry saw the name upon it flickering in the wandlight before he was forced around and slammed against it.

TOM RIDDLE

The cloaked man was now conjuring tight cords around Harry, tying him from neck to ankles to the headstone. Harry could hear shallow, fast breathing from the depths of the hood; he struggled, and the man hit him - hit him with a hand that had a finger missing. And Harry realized who was under the hood. It was Wormtail.

"You!" he gasped.

But Wormtail, who had finished conjuring the ropes, did not reply; he was busy checking the tightness of the cords, his fingers trembling uncontrollably, rumbling over the knots. Once sure that Harry was bound so tightly to the headstone that he couldn't move an inch, Wormtail drew a length of some black material from the inside of his cloak and stuffed it roughly into Harry's mouth; then, without a word, he turned from Harry and hurried away. Harry couldn't make a sound, nor could he see where Wormtail had gone.

He could see the Triwizard Cup lying on the ground. His wand close by to it. The bundle of robes that Harry had thought was a baby was close by, at the foot of the grave. It seemed to be stirring fretfully. Harry watched it, and his scar seared with pain again… and he suddenly knew that he didn't want to see what was in those robes… he didn't want that bundle opened…

He could hear noises at his feet. He looked down and saw a gigantic snake slithering through the grass, circling the headstone where he was tied. Wormtail's fast, wheezy breathing was growing louder again. It sounded as though he was forcing something heavy across the ground. Then he came back within Harry's range of vision, and Harry saw him pushing a stone cauldron to the foot of the grave. It was full of what seemed to be water - Harry could hear it slopping around - and it was larger than any cauldron Harry had ever used; a great stone belly large enough for a full-grown man to sit in.

The thing inside the bundle of robes on the ground was stirring more persistently, as though it was trying to free itself. Now Wormtail was busying himself at the bottom of the cauldron with a wand. Suddenly there were crackling names beneath it. The large snake slithered away into the darkness. The liquid in the cauldron seemed to heat very fast. The surface began not only to bubble, but to send out fiery sparks, as though it were on fire. Steam was thickening, blurring the outline of Wormtail tending the fire. The movements beneath the robes became more agitated.

And Harry heard the high, cold voice.

" _Hurry_!"

The whole surface of the water was alight with sparks now. It might have been encrusted with diamonds.

"It is ready Master."

" _Now_ …" said the cold voice.

Wormtail pulled open the robes on the ground, revealing what was inside them, and Harry let out a yell that was strangled in the wad of material blocking his mouth.

It was as though Wormtail had flipped over a stone and revealed something ugly, slimy, and blind - but worse, a hundred times worse. The thing Wormtail had been carrying had the shape of a crouched human child, except that Harry had never seen anything less like a child. It was hairless and scaly-looking, a dark, raw, reddish black. Its arms and legs were thin and feeble, and its face - no child alive ever had a face like that - flat and snakelike, with gleaming red eyes.

The thing seemed almost helpless; it raised its thin arms, put them around Wormtail's neck, and Wormtail lifted it. As he did so, his hood fell back, and Harry saw the look of revulsion on Wormtail's weak, pale face in the firelight as he carried the creature to the rim of the cauldron. For one moment, Harry saw the evil, flat face illuminated in the sparks dancing on the surface of the potion. And then Wormtail lowered the creature into the cauldron; there was a hiss, and it vanished below the surface; Harry heard its frail body hit the bottom with a soft thud.

 _Let it drown_ , Harry thought, his scar burning almost past endurance, _please… let it drown…_

Wormtail was speaking. His voice shook; he seemed frightened beyond his wits. He raised his wand, closed his eyes, and spoke to the night.

" _Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!_ "

The surface of the grave at Harry's feet cracked. Horrified, Harry watched as a fine trickle of dust rose into the air at Wormtail's command and fell softly into the cauldron. The diamond surface of the water broke and hissed; it sent sparks in all directions and turned a vivid, poisonous-looking blue.

And now Wormtail was whimpering. He pulled a long, thin, shining silver dagger from inside his cloak. His voice broke into petrified sobs.

" _Flesh - of the servant - w-willingly given - you will - revive - your master_."

He stretched his right hand out in front of him - the hand with the missing finger. He gripped the dagger very tightly in his left hand and swung it upward.

Harry realized what Wormtail was about to do a second before it happened – he closed his eyes as tightly as he could, but he could not block the scream that pierced the night, that went through Harry as though he had been stabbed with the dagger too. He heard something fall to the ground, heard Wormtail's anguished panting, then a sickening splash, as something was dropped into the cauldron.

Harry couldn't stand to look… but the potion had turned a burning red; the light of it shone through Harry's closed eyelids…

Wormtail was gasping and moaning with agony. Not until Harry felt Wormtail's anguished breath on his face did he realize that Wormtail was right in front of him.

" _B-blood of the enemy… forcibly taken… you will… resurrect your foe_."

Harry could do nothing to prevent it, he was tied too tightly… Squinting down, struggling hopelessly at the ropes binding him, he saw the shining silver dagger shaking in Wormtails remaining hand. He felt its point penetrate the crook of his right arm and blood seeping down the sleeve of his torn robes. Wormtail, still panting with pain, rumbled in his pocket for a glass vial and held it to Harry's cut, so that a dribble of blood fell into it.

He staggered back to the cauldron with Harrys blood. He poured it inside. The liquid within turned, instantly, a blinding white. Wormtail, his job done, dropped to his knees beside the cauldron, then slumped sideways and lay on the ground, cradling the bleeding stump of his arm, gasping and sobbing.

"T-the Dark Lord shall r-rise again," Wormtail said.

The cauldron was simmering, sending its diamond sparks in all directions, so blindingly bright that it turned all else to velvety blackness. Nothing happened…

 _Let it have drowned_ , Harry thought, _let it have gone wrong_ …

And then, suddenly, the sparks emanating from the cauldron were extinguished. A surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron instead, obliterating everything in front of Harry, so that he couldn't see Wormtail or anything but vapor hanging in the air… _It's gone wrong_ , he thought… _it's drowned… please… please let it be dead_ …

But then, through the mist in front of him, he saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron with black robes surrounding him.

The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Harry… and Harry stared back into the face that had haunted his nightmares for three years. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snakes with slits for nostrils…

Lord Voldemort had risen again.

Voldemort looked away from Harry and began examining his own body. His hands were like large, pale spiders; his long white fingers caressed his own chest, his arms, his face; the red eyes, whose pupils were slits, like a cats, gleamed still more brightly through the darkness. He held up his hands and flexed the fingers, his expression rapt and exultant. He took not the slightest notice of Wormtail, who lay twitching and bleeding on the ground, nor of the great snake, which had slithered back into sight and was circling Harry again, hissing.

Voldemort slipped one of those unnaturally long-fingered hands into a deep pocket and drew out a wand. He caressed it gently too; and then he raised it, and pointed it at Wormtail, who was lifted off the ground and thrown against the headstone where Harry was tied; he fell to the foot of it and lay there, crumpled up and crying. Voldemort turned his scarlet eyes upon Harry, laughing a high, cold, mirthless laugh. Wormtail's robes were shining with blood now; he had wrapped the stump of his arm in them.

"My Lord…" he choked, "my Lord… you promised… you did promise…"

"Hold out your arm," said Voldemort lazily.

"Oh Master… thank you, Master…"

He extended the bleeding stump, but Voldemort laughed again.

"The other arm, Wormtail."

"Master, please… _please_ …"

Voldemort bent down and pulled out Wormtail's left arm; he forced the sleeve of Wormtail's robes up past his elbow, and Harry saw something upon the skin there, something like a vivid red tattoo - a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth - the image that had appeared in the sky at the Quidditch World Cup: the Dark Mark. Voldemort examined it carefully, ignoring Wormtail's uncontrollable weeping.

"It is back," he said softly, "they will all have noticed it… and now, we shall see… now we shall know…"

He pressed his long white forefinger to the brand on Wormtail's arm.

The scar on Harry s forehead seared with a sharp pain again, and Wormtail let out a fresh howl; Voldemort removed his fingers from Wormtail's mark, and Harry saw that it had turned jet black.

A look of cruel satisfaction on his face, Voldemort straightened up, threw back his head, and stared around at the dark graveyard. "How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?" he whispered, his gleaming red eyes fixed upon the stars. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"

Harry saw a dark figure approaching. When it was closer, he saw the figure was wearing dark robes and had a hood over their heads, making Harry unable to see who was under there.

"My Lord," the figure said. Harry noted the voice was obviously a male. The figure fell down his knees bowing down Voldemort to his feet, and kissed the hem of his black robes.

Voldemort grinned as he looked down the figure. "And who might you be?"

The figure slowly stood up and then pulled down the hood.

Jack Black stood there. His hair messy. There was a tinge of grey in the colour of his skin. He shakily smiled at Voldemort.

"Jackson Overland Black, my Lord." Jack answered without hesitation.

"Ah yes, one of my most faithful servant. I see you have done your task to bring Harry Potter here."

Harry now knew he had been right all along. Jack Black was Death Eater, ally of Voldemort. All this time, Jack had been planning to bring Harry Potter to the Triwizard Tournament. It had been why Jack saved him a couple of times and helped him…it was because Jack needed him alive for the Final Task so he could use him to bring back Voldemort

"I am most graciously honor to do your orders, Master." Jack said before he stood next to Wormtail. His brown eyes landed at Harry for a moment. And Harry thought for a moment he saw mirth on his brown eyes, but it quickly disappeared as Jack looked at Voldemort eagerly.

"Ah! Here come my Death Eaters," Voldemort mused as the air was full of swishing cloaks. And wizards apparated right in front of them. All of them were hooded and masked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! ;)


	20. Chapter 20

The Death Eaters behind him did the same; each of them approaching Voldemort on his knees and kissing his robes, before backing away and standing up, forming a silent circle, which enclosed Tom Riddle s grave, Harry, Voldemort, and the sobbing and twitching heap that was Wormtail. Yet they left gaps in the circle, as though waiting for more people. Voldemort, however, did not seem to expect more. He looked around at the hooded faces, and though there was no wind rustling seemed to run around the circle, as though it had shivered.

"Welcome, Death Eaters," said Voldemort quietly. "Thirteen years… thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answer my call as though it were yesterday, we are still united under the Dark Mark, then! _Or are we_?" He put back his terrible face and sniffed, his slit-like nostrils widening.

"I smell guilt," he said. "There is a stench or guilt upon the air."

A second shiver ran around the circle, as though each member of it longed, but did not dare to step back from him.

"I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact - such prompt appearances! And I ask myself… why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?"

No one spoke. No one moved except Wormtail, who was upon the ground, still sobbing over his bleeding arm.

"And I answer myself," whispered Voldemort, "they must have believed me broken, they thought I was gone. They slipped back among my enemies, and they pleaded innocence, and ignorance, and bewitchment…

"And then I ask myself, but how could they have believed I would not rise again? They, who knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death? They, who had seen proofs of the immensity of my power in the times when I was mightier than any wizard living?

"And I answer myself, perhaps they believed a still greater power could exist, one that could vanquish even Lord Voldemort… perhaps they now pay allegiance to another… perhaps that champion of commoners, of Mudbloods and Muggles, Albus Dumbledore?"

At the mention of Dumbledore's name, the members of the circle stirred, and some muttered and shook their heads. Voldemort ignored them.

"It is a disappointment to me… I confess myself disappointed…"

One of the men suddenly flung himself forward, breaking the circle. Trembling from head to foot, he collapsed at Voldemort's feet.

"Master!" he shrieked, "Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!"

Voldemort began to laugh. He raised his wand.

" _Crucio_!"

The Death Eater on the ground writhed and shrieked; Harry was sure the sound must carry to the houses around… _Let the police come_ , he thought desperately… _anyone… anything_ …

Voldemort raised his wand. The tortured Death Eater lay flat upon the ground, gasping.

"Get up, Avery," said Voldemort softly. "Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years… I want thirteen years' repayment before I forgive you. Wormtail here has paid some of his debt already, have you not, Wormtail?"

He looked down at Wormtail, who continued to sob.

"You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Master," moaned Wormtail, "please. Master… please…"

"Yet you helped return me to my body," said Voldemort coolly, watching Wormtail sob on the ground. "Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me… and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers…"

Voldemort raised his wand again and whirled it through the air. A streak of what looked like molten silver hung shining in the wand's wake. Momentarily shapeless, it writhed and then formed itself into a gleaming replica of a human hand, bright as moonlight, which soared downward and fixed itself upon Wormtails bleeding wrist.

Wormtail's sobbing stopped abruptly. His breathing harsh and ragged, he raised his head and stared in disbelief at the silver hand, now attached seamlessly to his arm, as though he were wearing a dazzling glove. He flexed the shining fingers, then, trembling, picked up a small twig on the ground and crushed it into powder.

"My Lord," he whispered. "Master… it is beautiful… thank you… _thank you_ …"

He scrambled forward on his knees and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes.

"May your loyalty never waver again, Wormtail," said Voldemort.

"No, my Lord… never, my Lord…"

Wormtail stood up and took his place in the circle, staring at his powerful new hand, his face still shining with tears. Voldemort now approached Jack on Wormtail's right.

"Jack," Voldemort whispered as he stood before Jack. "Very loyal to me, but…"

Before any of them could blink, Voldemort raised his wand at Jack, and cried, " _Crucio_!"

Jack quickly dropped to the ground writhed, his hood pulled down, screaming in pain as tears streamed down his face. He closed his eyes and lips tightly as Harry looked away. Then the screaming stopped. Harry opened his eyes and saw Jack breathing harshly and ragged.

"Yet I do not know who you are, nor have I ever seen you," Voldemort said as he quickly pulled down Jack's left sleeve. In his forearm, it was wrapped around bandages. With a wave of his wand, the bandages disappeared and right there on Jack's arm was the Dark Mark.

"Impressive…" Voldemort whispered. " _You_ made yourself a Dark Mark. You must be very intelligent, Jack."

Jack nodded, not looking Voldemort in the eye. He looked nervous now and his body was shaking a bit.

"Yet I do not know why you made one…"

"I always want to serve you, Master." Jack said quietly.

"Do you not want _me_ to give you the Dark Mark?" the Dark Lord questioned.

"Of course my lord!" Jack said indignantly without thinking. Then he closed his mouth, his eyes widened in horror when he realized how he said it. Especially in front of Voldemort. "I'm sorry, Master." He said quietly this time.

"So who are you, Jack Black?" Voldemort questioned as his fingers trailed down Jack's-made Dark Mark. "I sense strong magic in you…potential…" Then he paused for a minute, "You have the blood of it?"

Jack finally looked up at Voldemort. His brown eyes met red ones. "Yes." He said quietly.

"How is that possible?"

"My father." Jack answered.

All around them, Harry could see the Death Eaters shaking their head in confusion and some in surprise and shock. But he was confused too.

"Would you like to be part of the inner circle?" Voldemort offered. "That I would give you the real Dark Mark. It is impressive, I'll give you that but not exactly good enough. Would you like me to give you one and join us. You will be the youngest Death Eater and high in my ranks. A reward for your loyalty…"

"Master, I am honored!" Jack said.

Voldemort stared at him for a few moments before he raised his wand.

" _Avada Kedrava!"_

Harry's emerald eyes widened as a blast of green light came out of Voldemort's wand. Then he heard something heavy fall to the ground. He opened his stinging eyes.

Jack Black was lying spread-eagled on the ground at Voldemort's feet. His open brown eyes, blank and expressionless as the windows of a deserted house, at his half-open mouth which looked slightly surprised.

Jack was dead.


	21. Chapter 21

"Pity. It is a waste that I have to kill such potential." Voldemort whispered, his red eyes looking at Jack's dead body.

"Lucius, my slippery friend," Voldemort whispered, halting before him. "I am told that you have not renounced the old ways, though to the world you present a respectable face. You are still ready to take the lead in a spot of Muggle-torture, I believe? Yet you never tried to find me, Lucius… Your exploits at the Quidditch World Cup were fun, I daresay… but might not your energies have been better directed toward finding and aiding your master?"

"My Lord, I was constantly on the alert," came Lucius Malfoy's voice swiftly from beneath the hood. "Had there been any sign from you, any whisper of your whereabouts, I would have been at your side immediately, nothing could have prevented me -"

"And yet you ran from my Mark, when a faithful Death Eater sent it into the sky last summer?" said Voldemort lazily, and Mr. Malfoy stopped talking abruptly. "Yes, I know all about that, Lucius… You have disappointed me… I expect more faithful service in the future."

"Of course, my Lord, of course… You are merciful, thank you…"

Voldemort moved on, and stopped, staring at the space - large enough for two people - that separated Malfoy and the next man.

"The Lestranges should stand here," said Voldemort quietly. "But they are entombed in Azkaban. They were faithful. They went to Azkaban rather than renounce me… When Azkaban is broken open, the Lestranges will be honored beyond their dreams. The dementors will join us… they are our natural allies… we will recall the banished giants… I shall have all my devoted servants returned to me, and an army of creatures whom all fear…"

He walked on. Some of the Death Eaters he passed in silence, but he paused before others and spoke to them.

"Macnair… destroying dangerous beasts for the Ministry of Magic now, Wormtail tells me? You shall have better victims than that soon, Macnair. Lord Voldemort will provide…"

"Thank you, Master… thank you," murmured Macnair.

"And here" - Voldemort moved on to the two largest hooded figures - "we have Crabbe… you will do better this time, will you not, Crabbe? And you, Goyle?"

They bowed clumsily, muttering dully.

"Yes, Master…"

"We will, Master…"

"The same goes for you, Nott," said Voldemort quietly as he walked past a stooped figure in Mr. Goyles shadow.

"My Lord, I prostrate myself before you, I am your most faithful -"

"That will do," said Voldemort.

He had reached the largest gap of all, and he stood surveying it with his blank, red eyes, as though he could see people standing there.

"And here we have seven missing Death Eaters… three dead in my service. One, too cowardly to return… he will pay. One, who I believe has left me forever… he will be killed, of course… and one, who remains my most faithful servant, and who have already reentered my service."

The Death Eaters stirred, and Harry saw their eyes dart sideways at one another through their masks.

"He is at Hogwarts, that faithful servant, even Jack Black has assist him," His red eyes glanced at Jack. "and it was through their efforts that our young friend arrived here tonight…

"Yes," said Voldemort, a grin curling his lipless mouth as the eyes of the circle flashed in Harry's direction. "I'd almost forgotten you were here. Harry Potter has kindly joined us for my rebirthing party. One might go so far as to call him my guest of honor. Standing on the bones of my father. I'd introduce you but word has it you're almost as famous as me these days. The boy who lived. How lies have fed your legend Harry. Shall I reveal what really happened that night thirteen years ago? Shall I divulge how I truly lost my powers?"

"It begins - and ends – with you Harry," Voldemort's red eyes glinted as he walked lazily over to stand next to Harry, so that the eyes of the whole circle were upon the two of them. The snake continued to circle.

"You know, of course, that they have called this boy my downfall?" Voldemort said softly, his red eyes upon Harry, whose scar began to burn so fiercely that he almost screamed in agony.

"You all know that on the night I lost my powers and my body, I tried to kill him. His mother died in the attempt to save him – and unwittingly provided him with a protection I admit I had not foreseen… I could not touch the boy."

Voldemort raised one of his long white fingers and put it very close to Harry's cheek.

"His mother left upon him the traces other sacrifice… This is old magic, I should have remembered it, I was foolish to overlook it… but no matter. I can touch him now."

Harry felt the cold tip of the long white finger touch him, and thought his head would burst with the pain. Voldemort laughed softly in his ear, then took the finger away and continued addressing the Death Eaters.

"I miscalculated, my friends, I admit it. My curse was deflected by the woman's foolish sacrifice, and it rebounded upon myself. Aaah… pain beyond pain, my friends; nothing could have prepared me for it. I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost… but still, I was alive. What I was, even I do not know… I, who have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality. You know my goal - to conquer death. And now, I was tested, and it appeared that one or more of my experiments had worked… for I had not been killed, though the curse should have done it. Nevertheless, I was as powerless as the weakest creature alive, and without the means to help myself… for I had no body, and every spell that might have helped me required the use of a wand… "I remember only forcing myself, sleeplessly, endlessly, second by second, to exist… I settled in a faraway place, in a forest, and I waited… Surely, one of my faithful Death Eaters would try and find me… one of them would come and perform the magic I could not, to restore me to a body… but I waited in vain…"

The shiver ran once more around the circle of listening Death Eaters. Voldemort let the silence spiral horribly before continuing.

"Only one power remained to me. I could possess the bodies of others. But I dared not go where other humans were plentiful, for I knew that the Aurors were still abroad and searching for me. I sometimes inhabited animals - snakes, of course, being my preference - but I was little better off inside them than as pure spirit, for their bodies were ill adapted to perform magic… and my possession of them shortened their lives; none of them lasted long…

"Then… four years ago… the means for my return seemed assured. A wizard - young, foolish, and gullible - wandered across my path in the forest I had made my home. Oh, he seemed the very chance I had been dreaming of… for he was a teacher at Dumbledore's school… he was easy to bend to my will… he brought me back to this country, and after a while, I took possession of his body, to supervise him closely as he carried out my orders. But my plan failed. I did not manage to steal the Sorcerer's Stone. I was not to be assured immortal life. I was thwarted… thwarted, once again, by Harry Potter…"

Silence once more; nothing was stirring, not even the leaves on the yew tree. The Death Eaters were quite motionless, the glittering eyes in their masks fixed upon Voldemort, and upon Harry.

"The servant died when I left his body, and I was left as weak as ever I had been," Voldemort continued. "I returned to my hiding place far away, and I will not pretend to you that I didn't then fear that I might never regain my powers… Yes, that was perhaps my darkest hour… I could not hope that I would be sent another wizard to possess… and I had given up hope, now, that any of my Death Eaters cared what had become of me…"

One or two of the masked wizards in the circle moved uncomfortably, but Voldemort took no notice.

"And then, not even a year ago, when I had almost abandoned hope, it happened at last… a servant returned to me. Wormtail here, who had faked his own death to escape justice, was driven out of hiding by those he had once counted friends, and decided to return to his master. He sought me in the country where it had long been rumored I was hiding… helped, of course, by the rats he met along the way. Wormtail has a curious affinity with rats, do you not, Wormtail? His filthy little friends told him there was a place, deep in an Albanian forest, that they avoided, where small animals like themselves had met their deaths by a dark shadow that possessed them…

"But his journey back to me was not smooth, was it, Wormtail? For, hungry one night, on the edge of the very forest where he had hoped to find me, he foolishly stopped at an inn for some food… and who should he meet there, but one Bertha Jorkins, a witch from the Ministry of Magic.

"Now see the way that fate favors Lord Voldemort. This might have been the end of Wormtail, and of my last hope for regeneration. But Wormtail - displaying a presence of mind I would never have expected from him - convinced Bertha Jorkins to accompany him on a nighttime stroll. He overpowered her… he brought her to me. And Bertha Jorkins, who might have ruined all, proved instead to be a gift beyond my wildest dreams… for - with a little persuasion - she became a veritable mine of information.

"She told me that the Triwizard Tournament would be played at Hogwarts this year. She told me that she knew of a faithful Death Eater who would be only too willing to help me, if I could only contact him. She told me many things… but the means I used to break the Memory Charm upon her were powerful, and when I had extracted all useful information from her, her mind and body were both damaged beyond repair. She had now served her purpose. I could not possess her. I disposed of her."

Voldemort smiled his terrible smile, his red eyes blank and pitiless.

"Wormtail's body, of course, was ill adapted for possession, as all assumed him dead, and would attract far too much attention if noticed. However, he was the able-bodied servant I needed, and, poor wizard though he is, Wormtail was able to follow the instructions I gave him, which would return me to a rudimentary, weak body of my own, a body I would be able to inhabit while awaiting the essential ingredients for true rebirth… a spell or two of my own invention… a little help from my dear Nagini," Voldemorts red eyes fell upon the continually circling snake, "a potion concocted from unicorn blood, and the snake venom Nagini provided… I was soon returned to an almost human form, and strong enough to travel.

"There was no hope of stealing the Sorcerer's Stone anymore, for I knew that Dumbledore would have seen to it that it was destroyed. But I was willing to embrace mortal life again, before chasing immortality. I set my sights lower… I would settle for my old body back again, and my old strength.

"I knew that to achieve this - it is an old piece of Dark Magic, the potion that revived me tonight - I would need three powerful ingredients. Well, one of them was already at hand, was it not, Wormtail? Flesh given by a servant…

"My father's bone, naturally, meant that we would have to come here, where he was buried. But the blood of a foe… Wormtail would have had me use any wizard, would you not, Wormtail? Any wizard who had hated me… as so many of them still do. But I knew the one I must use, if I was to rise again, more powerful than I had been when I had fallen. I wanted Harry Potters blood. I wanted the blood of the one who had stripped me of power thirteen years ago… for the lingering protection his mother once gave him would then reside in my veins too…

"But how to get at Harry Potter? For he has been better protected than I think even he knows, protected in ways devised by Dumbledore long ago, when it fell to him to arrange the boy's future. Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic, to ensure the boy's protection as long as he is in his relations' care. Not even I can touch him there… Then, of course, there was the Quidditch World Cup… I thought his protection might be weaker there, away from his relations and Dumbledore, but I was not yet strong enough to attempt kidnap in the midst of a horde of Ministry wizards. And then, the boy would return to Hogwarts, where he is under the crooked nose of that Muggle-loving fool from morning until night. So how could I take him?

"Why… by using Bertha Jorkins's information, of course. Use my one faithful Death Eater, stationed at Hogwarts, to ensure that the boy's name was entered into the Goblet of Fire. With the help of Jack Black here, from what I heard of my faithful Death Eater. They ensure that the boy won the tournament - that he touched the Triwizard Cup first - the cup which my Death Eater had turned into a Portkey, which would bring him here, beyond the reach of Dumbledore's help and protection, and into my waiting arms. And here he is… the boy you all believed had been my downfall…"

Voldemort moved slowly forward and turned to face Harry. He raised his wand.

" _Crucio_!"

It was pain beyond anything Harry had ever experienced; his very bones were on fire; his head was surely splitting along his scar; his eyes were rolling madly in his head; he wanted it to end… to black out… to die…

And then it was gone. He was hanging limply in the ropes binding him to the headstone of Voldemort's father, looking up into those bright red eyes through a kind of mist. The night was ringing with the sound of the Death Eaters' laughter.

"You see, I think, how foolish it was to suppose that this boy could ever have been stronger than me," said Voldemort. "But I want there to be no mistake in anybody's mind. Harry Potter escaped me by a lucky chance. And I am now going to prove my power by killing him, here and now, in front of you all, when there is no Dumbledore to help him, and no mother to die for him. I will give him his chance. He will be allowed to fight, and you will be left in no doubt which of us is the stronger. Just a little longer, Nagini," he whispered, and the snake glided away through the grass to where the Death Eaters stood watching.

"Now untie him, Wormtail, and give him back his wand."

Wormtail approached Harry, who scrambled to find his feet, to support his own weight before the ropes were untied. Wormtail raised his new silver hand, pulled out the wad of material gagging Harry, and then, with one swipe, cut through the bonds tying Harry to the gravestone.

He stood on the overgrown grave, as the Death Eaters closed ranks, forming a tighter circle around him and Voldemort, so that the gaps where the missing Death Eaters should have stood were filled.

Wormtail walked out of the circle to the place where Jack's body lay and returned with Harry's wand, which he thrust roughly into Harry's hand without looking at him. Then Wormtail resumed his place in the circle of watching Death Eaters.

Harry frowned as he looked down the wand he was holding. This wasn't his wand, Harry realized. It was why he felt wrong holding it. It was because this was not his wand.

It was Jack's wand.

Where was his wand? Harry thought as his eyes scanned his surroundings till it landed on Jack's form. In Jack's hand was Harry's wand. But it was broken to two pieces. It must have been the crash, it was broken. But how did Jack have his wand? Maybe Harry had picked up the wrong wand when he and Jack dealt the spider? Or did Jack have switched it?

Then a warmth spread to his body and Harry realized he felt this sensation before. It was when Harry had first gotten his wand at Ollivanders.

"You have been taught how to duel Harry Potter?" Voldemort interrupted his thoughts. Harry looked up and could see Voldemort's red eyes glinting through the darkness.

At these words Harry remembered, as though from a former life, the dueling club at Hogwarts he had attended briefly two years ago and then this year. He had learnt plenty from the Dueling club this school year.

But how could he win this? Outnumbered by at least thirty Death Eaters to one. He knew he was facing the thing against which Moody had always warned… the unblockable _Avada_ Kedavra curse – and Voldemort was right - his mother was not here to die for him this time… He was quite unprotected…

"We bow to each other. Harry," said Voldemort, bending a little, but keeping his snakelike face upturned to Harry. "Come, the niceties must be observed… Dumbledore would like you to show manners… Bow to death, Harry…"

The Death Eaters were laughing again. Voldemorts lipless mouth was smiling. Harry did not bow. He was not going to let Voldemort play with him before killing him… he was not going to give him that satisfaction…

"I said, _bow_ ," Voldemort said, raising his wand - and Harry felt his spine curve as though a huge, invisible hand were bending him ruthlessly forward, and the Death Eaters laughed harder than ever.

"Very good," said Voldemort softly, and as he raised his wand the pressure bearing down upon Harry lifted too. "And now you face me, like a man… straight-backed and proud, the way your father died…

"And now - we duel." Voldemort raised his wand, and before Harry could do anything to defend himself, before he could even move, he had been hit again by the Cruciatus Curse. The pain was so intense, so all-consuming, that he no longer knew where he was… White-hot knives were piercing every inch of his skin, his head was surely going to burst with pain, he was screaming more loudly than he'd ever screamed in his life –

And then it stopped. Harry rolled over and scrambled to his feet; he was shaking as uncontrollably as Wormtail had done when his hand had been cut off; he staggered sideways into the wall of watching Death Eaters, and they pushed him away, back toward Voldemort.

"A little break," said Voldemort, the slit-like nostrils dilating with excitement, "a little pause…That hurt, didn't it Harry? You don't want me to do that again, do you?"

Harry didn't answer. He was going to die like Jack, those pitiless red eyes were telling him so… he was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it… but he wasn't going to play along. He wasn't going to obey Voldemort… he wasn't going to beg…

"I asked you whether you want me to do that again," said Voldemort softly.

"Answer me! _Imperio_!"

And Harry felt, for the third time in his life, the sensation that his mind had been wiped of all thought… Ah, it was bliss, not to think, it was as though he were floating, dreaming… _just answer no… say no… just answer no…_

I will not, said a stronger voice, in the back of his head, I won't answer…

 _Just answer no_ …

I won't do it, I won't say it…

 _Just answer no_ …

"I WON'T!"

And these words burst from Harry's mouth; they echoed through the graveyard, and the dream state was lifted as suddenly as though cold water had been thrown over him - back rushed the aches that the Cruciatus Curse had left all over his body - back rushed the realization of where he was, and what he was facing…

"You won't?" said Voldemort quietly, and the Death Eaters were not laughing now. "You won't say no? Harry, obedience is a virtue I need to teach you before you die… Perhaps another little dose of pain?"

Voldemort raised his wand, but this time Harry was ready; with the reflexes born of his Quidditch training, he flung himself sideways onto the ground; he rolled behind the marble headstone of Voldemort s father, and he heard it crack as the curse missed him.

"We are not playing hide-and-seek, Harry," said Voldemort's soft, cold voice, drawing nearer, as the Death Eaters laughed. "You cannot hide from me. Does this mean you are tired of our duel? Does this mean that you would prefer me to finish it now, Harry? Come out, Harry… come out and play, then… it will be quick… it might even be painless… I would not know… I have never died…"

Harry crouched behind the headstone and knew the end had come. There was no hope… no help to be had. And as he heard Voldemort draw nearer still, he knew one thing only, and it was beyond fear or reason: He was not going to die crouching here like a child playing hide-and-seek; he was not going to die kneeling at Voldemort s feet… he was going to die upright like his father, and he was going to die trying to defend himself, even if no defense was possible…

Before Voldemort could stick his snakelike face around the headstone. Harry stood up… he gripped his wand tightly in his hand, thrust it out in front of him, and threw himself around the headstone, facing Voldemort.

Voldemort was ready. As Harry shouted, " _Expelliarmus_!" Voldemort cried, " _Avada Kedavra_!"

A jet of green light issued from Voldemort's wand just as a jet of red light blasted from Jack's wand - they met in midair - and suddenly Jack's wand was vibrating as though an electric charge were surging through it; his hand seized up around it; he couldn't have released it if he'd wanted to - and a narrow beam of light connected the two wands, neither red nor green, but bright, deep gold. Harry, following the beam with his astonished gaze, saw that Voldemort's long white fingers too were gripping a wand that was shaking and vibrating.

And then - nothing could have prepared Harry for this - he felt his feet lift from the ground. He and Voldemort were both being raised into the air, their wands still connected by that thread of shimmering golden light. They glided away from the tombstone of Voldemort's father and then came to rest on a patch of ground that was clear and free of graves… The Death Eaters were shouting; they were asking Voldemort for instructions; they were closing in, reforming the circle around Harry and Voldemort, the snake slithering at their heels, some of them drawing their wands –

The golden thread connecting Harry and Voldemort splintered; though the wands remained connected, a thousand more beams arced high over Harry and Voldemort, crisscrossing all around them, until they were enclosed in a golden, dome-shaped web, a cage of light, beyond which the Death Eaters circled like jackals, their cries strangely muffled now…

"Do nothing!" Voldemort shrieked to the Death Eaters, and Harry saw his red eyes wide with astonishment at what was happening, saw him fighting to break the thread of light still connecting his wand with Jack's wand; Harry held onto Jack's wand more tightly, with both hands, and the golden thread remained unbroken. "Do nothing unless I command you!" Voldemort shouted to the Death Eaters.

And then an unearthly and beautiful sound filled the air… It was coming from every thread of the light-spun web vibrating around Harry and Voldemort. It was a sound Harry recognized, though he had heard it only once before in his life: phoenix song.

It was the sound of hope to Harry… the most beautiful and welcome thing he had ever heard in his life… He felt as though the song were inside him instead of just around him… It was the sound he connected with Dumbledore, and it was almost as though a friend were speaking in his ear…

 _Don't break the connection_.

I know. Harry told the music, I know I mustn't… but no sooner had he thought it, than the thing became much harder to do. Jack's wand began to vibrate more powerfully than ever… and now the beam between him and Voldemort changed too… it was as though large beads of light were sliding up and down the thread connecting the wands - Harry felt Jack's wand give a shudder under his hand as the light beads began to slide slowly and steadily his way… The direction of the beams movement was now toward him, from Voldemort, and he felt his wand shudder angrily…

As the closest bead of light moved nearer to the wand tip Harry was holding, the wood beneath his fingers grew so hot he feared it would burst into flame. The closer that bead moved, the harder the wand vibrated; he was sure Jack's wand would not survive contact with it; it felt as though it was about to shatter under his fingers –

He concentrated every last particle of his mind upon forcing the bead back toward Voldemort, his ears full of phoenix song, his eyes furious, fixed… and slowly, very slowly, the beads quivered to a halt, and then, just as slowly, they began to move the other way… and it was Voldemort's wand that was vibrating extra-hard now… Voldemort who looked astonished, and almost fearful…

One of the beads of light was quivering, inches from the tip of Voldemorts wand. Harry didn't understand why he was doing it, didn't know what it might achieve… but he now concentrated as he had never done in his life on forcing that bead of light right back into Voldemort s wand… and slowly… very slowly… it moved along the golden thread… it trembled for a moment… and then it connected…

At once, Voldemorts wand began to emit echoing screams of pain… then - Voldemort's red eyes widened with shock - a dense, smoky hand flew out of the tip of it and vanished… the ghost of the hand he had made Wormtail… more shouts of pain… and then something much larger began to blossom from Voldemorts wand tip, a great, grayish something, that looked as though it were made of the solidest, densest smoke… It was a head… now a chest and arms… the torso of Jack Black.

If ever Harry might have released Jack's wand from shock, it would have been then, but instinct kept him clutching his wand tightly, so that the thread of golden light remained unbroken, even though the thick blue ghost of Jack Black (was it a ghost? it looked so solid) emerged in its entirety from the end of Voldemort s wand, as though it were squeezing itself out of a very narrow tunnel… and this shade of Jack stood up, and looked up and down the golden thread of light, and spoke.

Jack Black smiled, almost softly, as he said soothingly like he was speaking to a child, "It's okay, it's okay. I promise you're gonna be…you're gonna be fine. You have to believe in me, Harry."

Its voice was distant and echoing. Harry looked at Voldemort… his wide red eyes were still shocked… he had no more expected this than Harry had… and, very dimly Harry heard the frightened yells of the Death Eaters, prowling around the edges of the golden dome… More screams of pain from the wand… and then something else emerged from its tip… the dense shadow of a second head, quickly followed by arms and torso… an old man Harry had seen only in a dream was now pushing himself out of the end of the wand just as Jack had done… and his ghost, or his shadow, or whatever it was, fell next to Jack's, and surveyed Harry and Voldemort, and the golden web, and the connected wands, with mild surprise, leaning on his walking stick…

"He was a real wizard, then?" the old man said, his eyes on Voldemort. "Killed me, that one did… You fight him, boy…"

But already, yet another head was emerging… and this head, was a woman's… Harry, both arms shaking now as he fought to keep the wand still, saw her drop to the ground and straighten up like the others, staring…

The shadow of Bertha Jorkins surveyed the battle before her with wide eyes.

"Don't let go, now!" she cried, and her voice echoed like Jacks as though from very far away. "Don't let him get you, Harry - don't let go!"

She and the other two shadowy figures began to pace around the inner walls of the golden web, while the Death Eaters flitted around the outside of it… and Voldemort's dead victims whispered as they circled the duelers, whispered words of encouragement to Harry, and hissed words Harry couldn't hear to Voldemort. And now another head was emerging from the tip of Voldemorts wand… and Harry knew when he saw it who it would be… he knew, as though he had expected it from the moment when Jack had appeared from the wand… knew, because the man appearing was the one he'd thought of more than any other tonight…

The smoky shadow of a tall man with untidy hair fell to the ground as Bertha had done, straightened up, and looked at him… and Harry, his arms shaking madly now, looked back into the ghostly face of his father.

"Your mother's coming…" he said quietly. "She wants to see you… it will be all right… hold on…"

And she came… first her head, then her body… a young woman with long hair, the smoky, shadowy form of Lily Potter blossomed from the end of Voldemort's wand, fell to the ground, and straightened like her husband. She walked close to Harry, looking down at him, and she spoke in the same distant, echoing voice as the others, but quietly, so that Voldemort, his face now livid with fear as his victims prowled around him, could not hear…

"When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments… but we will give you time… you must get to the Portkey, it will return you to Hogwarts… do you understand, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry gasped, fighting now to keep a hold on his wand, which was slipping and sliding beneath his fingers.

"Harry…" whispered the figure of Jack, his eyes apologetic with guilt, "I'm sorry for everything. I did what I had to do." His eyes flickered to his dead body. "You still owe me one last favor. Just… _please_ take my body back, will you? Take my body back to my mom, my sister Pippa…my friends…"

"I will," Harry nodded. He didn't know why he was doing Jack's request, but the only thing he felt right now for Jack was pity. He could see the guilt on Jack's face. It did not mean he would forgive him. But he would do Jack's request.

Harry's face screwed up with the effort of holding Jack's wand.

"Do it now," whispered his father's voice, "be ready to run… do it now…"

"NOW!" Harry yelled; he didn't think he could have held on for another moment anyway - he pulled Jack's wand upward with an almighty wrench, and the golden thread broke; the cage of light vanished, the phoenix song died - but the shadowy figures of Voldemort's victims did not disappear - they were closing in upon Voldemort, shielding Harry from his gaze –

And Harry ran as he had never run in his life, knocking two stunned Death Eaters aside as he passed; he zigzagged behind headstones, feeling their curses following him, hearing them hit the headstones - he was dodging curses and graves, pelting toward Jack's body, his whole being concentrated on what he had to do –

" _Stun him_!" he heard Voldemort scream.

Five feet from Jack, Harry dived behind a marble angel to avoid the jets of red light and saw the tip of its wing shatter as the spells hit it. Gripping Jack's wand more tightly, he dashed out from behind the angel –

" _Impedimenta_!" he bellowed, pointing the wand wildly over his shoulder at the Death Eaters running at him.

From a muffled yell, he thought he had stopped at least one of them, but there was no time to stop and look; he jumped over the cup and dived as he heard more wand blasts behind him; more jets of light flew over his head as he fell, stretching out his hand to grab Jack's arm…

"Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!" shrieked Voldemort. Harry's hand had closed on Jack's wrist; one tombstone stood between him and Voldemort, but Jack was too heavy to carry, and the cup was out of reach –

Voldemort's red eyes flamed in the darkness. Harry saw his mouth curl into a smile, saw him raise his wand.

" _Accio_!" Harry yelled, pointing his wand at the Triwizard Cup. It flew into the air and soared toward him. Harry caught it by the handle –

He heard Voldemort s scream of fury at the same moment that he felt the jerk behind his navel that meant the Portkey had worked - it was speeding him away in a whirl of wind and color, and Jack along with him… They were going back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck at updates. Sorry. I manage to put this up before I go back to school tom. :(


	22. Chapter 22

When he looked back, even a month ago, Harry found he had only scattered memories of the next few days. It was as though he had been through too much to take in any more. The recollections he did have were very painful.

As he stared out the window, rain pouring down upon the dark clouds. Harry could hear the train whistled. In the corner of his eye, he could see Hermione and Ron talking. They were in a compartment. It was time for all of them to go home. Though Harry thought Hogwarts would be his home and not the Dursleys…

He thought back what happened a few days ago…

Harry felt himself slam flat into the ground; his face was pressed into grass; the smell of it filled his nostrils. He had closed his eyes while the Portkey transported him, and he kept them closed now. He did not move. All the breath seemed to have been knocked out of him; his head was swimming so badly he felt as though the ground beneath him were swaying like the deck of a ship. To hold himself steady, he tightened his hold on the two things he was still clutching: the smooth, cold handle of the Triwizard Cup and Jack's body. He felt as though he would slide away into the blackness gathering at the edges of his brain if he let go of either of them. Shock and exhaustion kept him on the ground, breathing in the smell of the grass, waiting… waiting for someone to do something… something to happen… and all the while, his scar burned dully on his forehead…

A torrent of sound deafened and confused him; there were voices everywhere, footsteps, screams… He remained where he was, his face screwed up against the noise, as though it were a nightmare that would pass…

Then a pair of hands seized him roughly and turned him over.

"Harry! _Harry!_ "

He opened his eyes.

He was looking up at the starry sky, and Albus Dumbledore was crouched over him. The dark shadows of a crowd of people pressed in around them, pushing nearer; Harry felt the ground beneath his head reverberating with their footsteps.

He had come back to the edge of the maze. He could see the stands rising above him, the shapes of people moving in them, the stars above.

Harry let go of the cup, but he clutched Jack to him even more tightly. He raised his free hand and seized Dumbledore's wrist, while Dumbledore's face swam in and out of focus.

"He's back," Harry whispered. "He's back. Voldemort."

"What's going on? What's happened?"

The face of Cornelius Fudge appeared upside down over Harry; it looked white, appalled.

"My God - Black!" it whispered. "Dumbledore - he's dead!"

The words were repeated, the shadowy figures pressing in on them gasped it to those around them… and then others shouted it - screeched it - into the night – "He's _dead!_ " "He's dead!" "Jack Black! _Dead!_ "

"Harry, let go of him," he heard Fudge's voice say, and he felt fingers trying to pry him from Jack's limp body, but Harry wouldn't let him go. Then Dumbledore's face, which was still blurred and misted, came closer.

"Harry, you can't help him now. It's over. Let go."

"He wanted me to bring him back," Harry muttered - it seemed important to explain this. "He wanted me to bring him back to his mum…"

"That's right. Harry… just let go now…"

Dumbledore bent down, and with extraordinary strength for a man so old and thin, raised Harry from the ground and set him on his feet. Harry swayed. His head was pounding. The crowd around them jostled, fighting to get closer, pressing darkly in on him - "What's happened?" "What's wrong with him?" " _Black's dead_!"

"He'll need to go to the hospital wing!" Fudge was saying loudly. "He's ill – Dumbledore, Black's parent and his aunt, they're here, they're in the stands…"

"I'll take Harry, Dumbledore, I'll take him -"

"No, I would prefer-"

"Dumbledore, Jack's mother and Narcissa Black are running…and his sister…they're coming over…Don't you think you should tell them - before he sees -?"

"Harry, stay here -"

Girls were screaming, sobbing hysterically… The scene flickered oddly before Harry's eyes…

"It's all right, son, I've got you… come on… hospital wing…"

"Dumbledore said stay," said Harry thickly, the pounding in his scar making him feel as though he was about to throw up; his vision was blurring worse than ever.

"You need to lie down… Come on now…"

Harry recalled being taken by Moody to his office. Moody had probed Harry for information of what had happened. That it was Karkaroff who was the faithful servant Voldemort mentioned and that Jack had helped him. He had told Moody what he had overhead the owlery after the First Task.

Moody laughed.

"Karkaroff?" Moody chuckled. "Karkaroff fled tonight, when he felt the Dark Mark burn upon his arm. He betrayed too many faithful supporters of the Dark Lord to wish to meet them… but I doubt he will get far. The Dark Lord has ways of tracking his enemies."

"Karkaroff's gone? He ran away? But then – Jack put my name in the goblet?"

"No," Moody said slowly. "No, Jack didn't. It was _I_ who did that."

Harry stared at him in disbelief. "No, you didn't. You didn't do that… you can't have done…"

"I assure you I did," said Moody, and his magical eye swung around and fixed upon the door, and Harry knew he was making sure that there was no one outside it. At the same time, Moody drew out his wand and pointed it at Harry.

"He forgave them, then?" he said. "The Death Eaters who went free? The ones who escaped Azkaban?"

"What?"

He was looking at the wand Moody was pointing at him. This was a bad joke, it had to be. "I asked you," said Moody quietly, "whether he forgave the scum who never even went to look for him. Those treacherous cowards who wouldn't even brave Azkaban for him. The faithless, worthless bits of filth who were brave enough to cavort in masks at the Quidditch World Cup, but fled at the sight of the Dark Mark when I fired it into the sky. Like that Jack Black…"

"You fired… What are you talking about…?"

"I told you Harry… I told you. If there's one thing I hate more than any other, it's a Death Eater who walked free. They turned their backs on my master when he needed them most. I expected him to punish them. I expected him to torture them. Tell me he hurt them, Harry…" Moody's face was suddenly lit with an insane smile. "Tell me he told them that I, I alone remained faithful, not like Jack, I… prepared to risk everything to deliver to him the one thing he wanted above all… you"

"You didn't… it - it can't be you…"

"Who put your name in the Goblet of Fire, under the name of a different school? _I_ did. Who frightened off every person I thought might try to hurt you or prevent you from winning the tournament? _I_ did. Who nudged Hagrid into showing you the dragons? _I_ did. Who helped you see the only way you could beat the dragon? _I_ did"

Moody's magical eye had now left the door. It was fixed upon Harry. His lopsided mouth leered more widely than ever.

"But Jack—"

"Jack Black," Moody laughed a bit. "He knew there was something wrong with me, ever since that first lesson. He had been suspicious of me and I too. I knew there was something about that kid that just rubs me off…So I confronted him after I put all you kids in Imperious…"

Harry went back when Moody first put Imperius Curse on him and the rest of his classmate. He recalled that time…

* * *

_The bell rang, and the class started to gather their things after they had been put under Imperius Curse by Professor Moody. So far, only Harry had managed to fight it off and Jack was the second who could resist the curse less than a minute._

_"Mr. Black, I like you stay." Moody called._

_Harry looked back and could see Jack whispering something to Theo and Daphne before he went up to Moody. He shook his head and followed Ron to their next class._

* * *

"It was then I realized he was a Death Eater. And Jack found out that I was an imposter." Moody said. "I don't know how Jack had the Dark Mark, he had said he had it when he was a baby…Soon, Jack had begged me. He wanted to help me bring the Dark Lord back. I didn't trust him…I hated him for not helping our Master. He didn't search for our Master. I am the one who searched for him. I am the faithful servant.

"Then Jack suggested to use the Unbreakable Vow, to prove his loyalty and his willingness…Jack had vowed to help me bring back the Dark Lord and not to tell anyone about it, not his friends or Dumbledore…not to tell the plans.

* * *

_"We need a Bonder," Jack said quietly in Moody's office. It was late at night, just a day before the Durmstrangs and Beauxbatons arrived._

_"No need, I can do this," Moody said. He pulled out his wand and held Jack's hand. He then pointed it at their linked hands. "Will you, Jack, help me bring the Dark Lord back?"_

_"I will," Jack said._

_A thin tongue of brilliant flame issued from the wand and wound its way around their hands like a red-hot wire._

_"And will you tell no one of the plans I will say to you, not to Dumbledore, not to your friends, no one. That this will never leave this room, not a word?"_

_"I will," Jack said._

_A second tongue of flame shot from the wand and interlinked with the first, making a fine, glowing chain._

_"And will you keep Harry safe and guide him through his tasks and make sure in the Final Task that he would get the Triwizard Cup before the others, even you?"_

_There was a moment's silence. Moody glanced at Jack, who's eyes never leave their hands._

_"I will," Jack said._

_Then a third unique flame, which shot from the wand, twisted with the others, and bound itself thickly around their clasped hands, like a fiery snake. Jack finally looked up and then slowly let go of his hand._

* * *

"I still didn't trust him after that." Moody shook his head. "It hadn't been easy, Harry, guiding you through these tasks without arousing suspicion. I have had to use every ounce of cunning I possess with the help of Jack, so that our hands would not be detectable in your success. Dumbledore would have been very suspicious if you had managed everything too easily. As long as you got into that maze, preferably with a decent head start - then, I knew…I had to make your path clear by getting rid of the other champions, clearing your way. But I also had to contend with your stupidity. The second task… that was when I was most afraid we would fail. I was keeping watch on you, Potter. I knew you hadn't worked out the egg's clue, so I put Jack under Imperius curse to give you another hint-"

Harry's eyes widened in horror. "No, you didn't…you didn't put Jack under Imperius…"

He realized that maybe Moody had been the one to put Jack under Imperius the time the disappearance of the students…That Moody had been truly responsible to the deaths like Ms. Kringle…So that nobody would suspect Moody…

"Who told Jack to open it underwater? I did. I trusted that he would pass the information on to you after all, the Unbreakable Vow. But even then, Potter, even then you seemed likely to fail. I was watching all the time… all those hours in the library. It would be suspicious if Jack had helped you on that task. So I planted the book you needed in your dormitory, I gave it to the Longbottom boy, don't you remember? Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean. It would have told you all you needed to know about gillyweed. I expected you to ask everyone and anyone you could for help. Longbottom would have told you in an instant. But you did not… you did not… You have a streak of pride and independence that might have ruined all.

"So what could I do? Feed you information from another innocent source. You told me at the Yule Ball a house-elf called Dobby had given you a Christmas present. I called the elf to the staffroom to collect some robes for cleaning. I staged a loud conversation with Professor McGonagall about the hostages who had been taken, and whether Potter would think to use gillyweed. And your little elf friend ran straight to Snape's office and then hurried to find you…"

Moodys wand was still pointing directly at Harry's heart. Over his shoulder, foggy shapes were moving in the Foe-Glass on the wall.

"You were so long in that lake, Potter, I thought you had drowned. I nearly blasted Jack…But luckily, Dumbledore took your idiocy for nobility, and marked you high for it. I breathed again.

"You had an easier time of it than you should have in that maze tonight, of course," said Moody. "I was patrolling around it, able to see through the outer hedges, able to curse many obstacles out of your way. I put the Imperius Curse on Krum, so that he would finish Fleur and leave your path to the cup clear, but Jack had stunned Fleur first…and I knew I had to trust Jack to make sure you're safe and for you to reach the cup first."

Harry stared at Moody. He just didn't see how this could be… Dumbledore's friend, the famous Auror… the one who had caught so many Death Eaters… It made no sense… no sense at all…

The foggy shapes in the Foe-Glass were sharpening, had become more distinct. Harry could see the outlines of three people over Moody's shoulder, moving closer and closer. But Moody wasn't watching them. His magical eye was upon Harry.

"The Dark Lord didn't manage to kill you Potter, and he so wanted to," whispered Moody. "Imagine how he will reward me when he finds I have done it for him. I gave you to him - the thing he needed above all to regenerate - and then I killed you for him. I will be honored beyond all other Death Eaters. I will be his dearest, his closest supporter… closer than Jack who claims that he's the most faithful servant of the Dark Lord like a son…"

Moody's normal eye was bulging, the magical eye fixed upon Harry. The door was barred, and Harry knew he would never reach his own wand in time…

"The Dark Lord and I," said Moody, and he looked completely insane now, towering over Harry, leering down at him, "have much in common. Both of us, for instance, had very disappointing fathers… very disappointing indeed. Both of us suffered the indignity, Harry, of being named after those fathers. And both of us had the pleasure… the very great pleasure… of killing our fathers to ensure the continued rise of the Dark Order!"

"You're mad," Harry said - he couldn't stop himself- "you're mad!"

"Mad, am I?" said Moody, his voice rising uncontrollably. "We'll see! We'll see who's mad, now that the Dark Lord has returned, with me at his side! He is back, Harry Potter, you did not conquer him - and now - I conquer you! Not Jack!"

Moody raised his wand, he opened his mouth; Harry plunged his own hand into his robes—

Then Moody was quickly stun by Dumbledore, who arrived with Snape and McGonagall. Dumbledore told Harry this man was not Alastor Moody, which Dumbledore realized when Moody took Harry from Dumbledore, something the real Moody would never do. Dumbledore had sent Snape to get a potion and fetch Winky; he also had sent McGonagall to tell a large black dog she would find at the pumpkin patch to go to his office. He then opened Moody's trunk and found the real Alastor Moody inside the seventh compartment.

Dumbledore said that the impostor had been using the Polyjuice Potion to disguise himself as Alastor Moody all year, keeping the real Moody alive so he could use his hair as an ingredient, though he suspected in the excitement of tonight the imposter forgot to take his most recent dosage. They wait until the effects wear off, revealing that the imposter was Barty Crouch Jr. just as Snape, McGonagall, and Winky arrived.

Under the effects of Snape's Veritaserum, Crouch Jr. was asked by Dumbledore how he escaped Azkaban. Crouch Jr. confessed that his father, Barty Crouch Sr. and his mother helped him escape Azkaban. His mother was dying, and it was his mother's wish that he could escape, so Barty Crouch Jr. and his mother switched places using the Polyjuice Potion. Mrs. Crouch died and was buried disguised as him, while Crouch Sr. had a private funeral for her to conceal the truth.

Barty Crouch Sr. put the Imperius Curse on his son to make sure he was controlled and out of sight. Bertha Jorkins found out when she came to their house on business while Crouch Sr. was not home, forcing Crouch Sr. to place a Memory Charm on her; this permanently damaged her memory. After Winky persuaded her master to let his son go to the Quidditch World Cup, they arranged to use an Invisibility cloak to hide Crouch Jr. as he sat in the Top Box. During this event, Crouch Jr. secretly fought the curse and stole Harry's wand when Winky wasn't looking. When the Death Eaters showed up and disrupted the tournament, Barty Crouch Jr. was angry that they weren't loyal to Voldemort. After regaining control he used Harry's wand to summon the Dark Mark, which scared the Death Eaters away. His father fired Winky for failing to watch him and almost letting him escape. He then found him and took him home.

Eventually, thanks to Bertha's information, Voldemort and Wormtail were able to find Crouch Jr. and release him from his father's imprisonment. Learning from Bertha about Alastor Moody becoming a teacher at Hogwarts, he and Wormtail captured Moody, allowing Crouch Jr. to be planted at Hogwarts as Moody, with Wormtail keeping an eye on Crouch. He kept Moody alive not only to maintain his disguise, but also learned about his habits so he could fool Dumbledore.

Harry soon learned that Crouch Jr. was the Barty Crouch Harry saw on the Marauder's Map, stealing potions ingredients from Snape's office to continue making the Polyjuice Potion. Eventually, Crouch started to fight off the Imperius curse placed upon him and was then kept under home imprisonment by Wormtail under the pretense of being unwell. He managed to escape and travel to Hogwarts to warn Dumbledore of his son's existence. However, using the Marauder's Map, Crouch Jr. was able to intercept and kill him. He then transfigured his father's body into a bone and buried it in Hagrid's yard. Crouch Jr., as Moody, then offered to take the Triwizard Cup into the maze so he could turn it into a Portkey and complete his master's plan with Jack.

Dumbledore took Harry to his office to meet Sirius, but not before placing McGonagall in charge of Crouch Jr. He also sent Snape to take Moody to the Hospital Wing and bring Cornelius Fudge up to Moody's office.

Once in Dumbledore's office, Harry told Dumbledore and Sirius everything. But when he reached the part where the golden beam of light had connected Jack's and Voldemort's wands, he found his throat obstructed. He tried to keep talking, but the memories of what had come out of Voldemort's wand were flooding into his mind. He could see Jack emerging, see the old man, Bertha Jorkins… his father… his mother…

He was glad when Sirius broke the silence.

"The wands connected?" he said, looking from Harry to Dumbledore. "Why?"

Harry looked up at Dumbledore again, on whose face there was an arrested look. "Priori Incantatem," he muttered.

His eyes gazed into Harry's and it was almost as though an invisible beam of understanding shot between them.

"The Reverse Spell effect?" said Sirius sharply.

"Exactly," said Dumbledore. "Jack's wand and Voldemorts wand share cores. Each of them contains a feather from the tail of the same phoenix. This phoenix, in fact," he added, and he pointed at the scarlet-and-gold bird, perching peacefully on Harry's knee.

"So what happens when a wand meets its brother?" said Sirius.

"They will not work properly against each other," said Dumbledore. "If, however, the owners of the wands force the wands to do battle… a very rare effect will take place. One of the wands will force the other to regurgitate spells it has performed - in reverse. The most recent first… and then those which preceded it…"

He looked interrogatively at Harry, and Harry nodded.

"Which means," said Dumbledore slowly, his eyes upon Harry's face, "that some form of Jack must have reappeared."

Harry nodded again.

"Jack came back to life?" said Sirius sharply.

"No spell can reawaken the dead," said Dumbledore heavily. "All that would have happened is a kind of reverse echo. A shadow of the living Jack would have emerged from the wand… am I correct, Harry?"

"He spoke to me," Harry said. He was suddenly shaking again. "Th… the ghost Jack, or whatever he was, spoke to me."

"An echo," said Dumbledore, "which retained Jack's appearance and character. I am guessing other such forms appeared… less recent victims of Voldemort's wand…"

"An old man," Harry said, his throat still constricted. "Bertha Jorkins. And…"

"Your parents?" said Dumbledore quietly.

"Yes," said Harry.

Sirius's grip on Harry's shoulder was now so tight it was painful.

"The last murders the wand performed," said Dumbledore, nodding. "In reverse order. More would have appeared, of course, had you maintained the connection. Very well, Harry, these echoes, these shadows… what did they do?"

Harry described how the figures that had emerged from the wand had prowled the edges of the golden web, how Voldemort had seemed to fear them, how the shadow of Harry's mother had told him what to do, how Cedric's had made its final request.

"Jack is very clever young man…he must have switch your wand with his before you touch the Cup," Dumbledore mused.

"But why?"

"He knew you would confront Voldemort, and he knew there was a chance that you'd be killed…so he switched with his wand with yours knowing that you could fight Voldemort long enough for you to escape…"

"B-but," Harry looked very confused. "W-why would Jack help me? He wanted to bring me to Voldemort…"

"Ah!" Dumbledore grinned a bit. "He knew he had to. He had made the Unbreakable Vow with Barty. Jack was not a Death Eater and was never loyal to Voldemort."

"What?"

"You see, I met a young man in America a few years back just before you first came to Hogwarts Harry. He was incredibly talented and powerful," Dumbledore smiled.

"You see Harry, I had offered Jack to come to Hogwarts when I first met him. But he had declined because he wanted to be close to his family. Then just after the Quidditch World Cup, I was walking in Hogwarts ground when I felt something strange in the forest…I had come there to find out the problem, the Centaurs told me that I could not. And they also told me that whatever was happening in the forest was dangerous, especially to the students. That no one could stop it except for one. I knew only Jack could. So I came back to America and told Jack about it. It took a few days to convince him to go to Hogwarts so that he could fix whatever problem it was in the forest.

"Soon, Jack told me about a Death Eater planning to bring back Voldemort, one of my staffs was one. I told Jack that he must make the Unbreakable Vow with a Death Eater. I knew that Jack cannot tell me the plans, but Jack had promised to make sure your safety was his number one priority, Harry." Dumbledore said. "But he would have protect you anyway, he would never want you harm, Harry. He cared people too much.

Harry could recall the times Jack had saved him…it wasn't because of Barty or for Voldemort, it was because _Jack cared_. Jack was worried of his safety. Not because of the Unbreakable Vow, or for Barty or for Voldemort…it was because Jack cared.

"After the First Task, Jack had told me he sensed magic in the forest growing stronger. He told me there was the Hidden Spirit in the forest…he soon learnt they were the forest spirits. Their leader needed humans to gain their strengths. Jack had offered himself," Dumbledore smiled softly. "Compassionate young man, he wanted to help those in need.

"The Forest Leader refused, said that he wanted young kids, specifically, muggleborns. Jack refused of course, said that he didn't want children harmed in any other way. But I told Jack to give the children." His blue eyes were filled with guilt. "I believed it was my fault. Jack cast a Confundus spell on the children each and led them to the forest. When he realized the Forest Leader was going to kill them, Jack managed to stop it by using his incredible magic and Gulf."

"He used Gulf?" Sirius frowned. He may not be great in Potions and not much in Herbology, but he had heard it was a very poisonous ingredient.

"Yes! Excellent young man, of course their leader had drained a lot of Jack's magic that caused him to be quiet ill. It is a miracle he's still alive. He had managed to save a lot of students, but I am afraid he couldn't save Ms. Kringle. I had managed to convince the Ministry that Jack was innocent and that I knew that without him, the students of Hogwarts wouldn't be here alive today."

Harry bit his lip. This was a lot to take in. After all this time he thought that Jack was involve with Voldemort, he was actually working with Dumbledore.

"But sir, what about his Dark Mark?" Harry asked hesitantly. "Voldemort said that Jack had made it."

"Oh no! Jack had never made the Dark Mark. He is a brilliant young man, but not even he could make one. He had the Dark Mark when he was a baby."

"He was that young?" Sirius said incredulously.

"Yes, but rest assure Jack would never be loyal to Voldemort." Dumbledore said. "Jack is actually a spy for us. But poor Jack…"'

"What about when he sneak out a few nights a month ago?" Harry asked.

"I believe that is a story for another time. Now, you will come with me to the hospital wing. I do not want you returning to the dormitory tonight. A Sleeping Potion, and some peace… Sirius, would you like to stay with him?"

After Sirius transformed back into a dog they head to the Hospital Wing, where Harry was given a Sleeping Potion to help him relax.

Upon waking up, he, along with Molly and Bill Weasley, heard a large argument. Fudge summoned a Dementor as protection when he went to confront Crouch Jr., which sucked out Crouch Jr.'s soul before he, McGonagall, Snape, and Dumbledore entered the hospital wing. Dumbledore was disturbed that they lost a key piece of evidence on Voldemort's return, while Fudge believed the man was a lunatic and that his testimony would not have been useful.

Due to reading Rita Skeeter's last article about Harry being dangerous, Fudge cannot accept Harry's testimony, nor does he believe Dumbledore's information about Harry's scar. Harry gets up and tried to identify the Death Eaters whose names he heard earlier, but Fudge points out they were cleared long ago and he might have read this out of an old Daily Prophet article. Fudge was offended by Dumbledore's suggestions of removing the Dementors from Azkaban and sending an envoy to make an agreement with the giants. Even after Snape revealed his Dark Mark and explained that Voldemort had summoned him, Fudge thought it was some kind of a ploy and makes it clear that he was going to have a serious talk with Dumbledore about his position before he left. He then exit the room, but not before he gave Harry his winnings from the Tournament.

Bill Weasley left at Dumbledore's request to inform his father of the situation and have him discreetly contact those within the Ministry that can be convinced of the truth. McGonagall was sent to retrieve Hagrid and Madame Maxime for a mission. After Madam Pomfrey was sent to look after Winky, Dumbledore has Sirus revert to his true form. Both Mrs. Weasley and Snape were surprised by his presence, but were quickly convinced of his innocence. Dumbledore dispatched Sirius to reinstate the Order of the Phoenix by gathering known wizards and witches who would support their side.

"Headmaster, can I talk to you? Alone." Harry added, glancing at Mrs. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley left the room, leaving Harry and Dumbledore looking at each other.

"Jack was a spy?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

"Why? I mean, you said that you brought Jack here to fix the Forest problem…how did Jack suddenly pretend to be a Death Eater?"

It sounded odd if anyone had thought of it. How did Jack got himself into this? And looked what happened? Guilt formed in Harry, Jack had protected him right from the beginning, and had given him his wand knowing that he could be defenseless. And that Jack knew that he might die at Graveyard, but the only thing Jack could think of was helping Harry escape alive and not for himself. For a Slytherin, he was very brave.

Then he remembered Jack's words just before Harry touched the cup…

_"I'm not cruel. I don't like people being biased against the Slytherins. You folks think we're evil and want to dominate the world or something. I want to prove you wrong. Not all of us are black and white, there are grey areas too. You can't just proclaim that Slytherins are evil just because there are dark wizards there. Ambition and cunning is a virtue. Not evil. Not all Slytherins are evil."_

"I asked him," Dumbledore sighed, his eyes tired, interrupting Harry's thoughts. "I asked him to spy for us when he learnt there was a Death Eater in the midst. So I told him that he must convince the other Death Eater that he is still loyal to Voldemort and he wants to help bring back Voldemort."

"You wanted Voldemort to be back?!" Harry gaped.

"Yes, I thought it was time for him to be back. So I allowed it."

"Why?!" Harry demanded.

"I knew Voldemort was going to be back soon." Dumbledore said. "If I let Voldemort into hiding longer, he would have gain more allies and power…I do not wish the danger to be brought so quickly like this. Only you Harry could do this."

"What do you mean?"

"Harry, I owe you an explanation," said Dumbledore. "An explanation of an old man's mistakes. For I see now that what I have done, and not done, with regard to you, bears all the hallmarks of the failings of age. Youth cannot know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young… and I seem to have forgotten, lately

"I guessed, fifteen years ago," said Dumbledore, "when I saw the scar on your forehead, what it might mean. I guessed that it might be the sign of a connection forged between you and Voldemort."

"Yes," said Dumbledore apologetically. "Yes, but you see - it is necessary to start with your scar. For it became apparent, shortly after you rejoined the magical world, that I was correct, and that your scar was giving you warnings when Voldemort was close to you, or else feeling powerful emotion."

"But…I felt my scar hurt when I saw Jack, sometimes." Harry said hesitantly.

"Oh! That was because of Jack's blood."

"His blood?" Harry looked confused. Then he recalled Voldemort had asked Jack something about his blood.

"That is a story for another time, let's just say Jack is a very special and has unique abilities." Dumbledore looked up at him, "There is something that I should have told you four years ago, Harry."

Harry stared at him.

"Four years ago you arrived at Hogwarts, Harry, safe and whole, as I had planned and intended. Well - not quite whole. You had suffered. I knew you would when I left you on your aunt and uncle's doorstep. I knew I was condemning you to ten dark and difficult years."

Dumbledore paused. Harry said nothing.

"You might ask - and with good reason - why it had to be so. Why could some wizarding family not have taken you in? Many would have done so more than gladly, would have been honored and delighted to raise you as a son.

"My answer is that my priority was to keep you alive. You were in more danger than perhaps anyone but I realized. Voldemort had been vanquished hours before, but his supporters - and many of them are almost as terrible as he - were still at large, angry, desperate and violent. And I had to make my decision, too, with regard to the years ahead. Did I believe that Voldemort was gone for ever? No. I knew not whether it would be ten, twenty or fifty years before he returned, but I was sure he would do so, and I was sure, too, knowing him as I have done, that he would not rest until he killed you.

"I knew that Voldemort's knowledge of magic is perhaps more extensive than any wizard alive. I knew that even my most complex and powerful protective spells and charms were unlikely to be invincible if he ever returned to full power.

"But I knew, too, where Voldemort was weak. And so I made my decision. You would be protected by an ancient magic of which he knows, which he despises, and which he has always, therefore, underestimated - to his cost. I am speaking, of course, of the fact that your mother died to save you. She gave you a lingering protection he never expected, a protection that flows in your veins to this day. I put my trust, therefore, in your mother's blood. I delivered you to her sister, her only remaining relative."

"She doesn't love me," Harry shook his head. "She doesn't give a damn -"

"But she took you," Dumbledore cut across him. "She may have taken you grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet still she took you, and in doing so, she sealed the charm I placed upon you. Your mother's sacrifice made the bond of blood the strongest shield I could give you."

"I still don't."

"While you can still call home the place where your mother's blood dwells, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort. He shed her blood, but it lives on in you and her sister. Her blood became your refuge. You need return there only once a year, but as long as you can still call it home, while you are there he cannot hurt you. Your aunt knows this. I explained what I had done in the letter I left, with you, on her doorstep. She knows that allowing you houseroom may well have kept you alive for the past fourteen years."

Harry shook his head, almost as if he didn't want to believe it. But it made sense why he had stayed with the Dursleys.

"Five years ago, then," Dumbledore said. "you arrived at Hogwarts, neither as happy nor as well-nourished as I would have liked, perhaps, yet alive and healthy. You were not a pampered little prince, but as normal a boy as I could have hoped under the circumstances. Thus far, my plan was working well.

"And then… well, you will remember the events of your first year at Hogwarts quite as clearly as I do. You rose magnificently to the challenge that faced you and sooner - much sooner - than I had anticipated, you found yourself face to face with Voldemort. You survived again. You did more. You delayed his return to full power and strength. You fought a man's fight. I was… prouder of you than I can say.

"Yet there was a flaw in this wonderful plan of mine," said Dumbledore. "An obvious flaw that I knew, even then, might be the undoing of it all. And yet, knowing how important it was that my plan should succeed, I told myself that I would not permit this flaw to ruin it. I alone could prevent this, so I alone must be strong. And here was my first test, as you lay in the hospital wing, weak from your struggle with Voldemort and from his ritual."

"I don't understand what you're saying," said Harry.

"Don't you remember asking me, as you lay in the hospital wing, why Voldemort had tried to kill you when you were a baby?"

Harry nodded.

"Ought I to have told you then?"

Harry stared into the blue eyes and said nothing, but his heart was racing again.

"You do not see the flaw in the plan yet? No… perhaps not. Well, as you know, I decided not to answer you. Eleven, I told myself, was much too young to know. I had never intended to tell you when you were eleven. The knowledge would be too much at such a young age.

"I should have recognized the danger signs then. I should have asked myself why I did not feel more disturbed that you had already asked me the question to which I knew, one day, I must give a terrible answer. I should have recognized that I was too happy to think that I did not have to do it on that particular day… YOU were too young, much too young.

"And so we entered your second year at Hogwarts. And once again you met challenges even grown wizards have never faced: once again you acquitted yourself beyond my wildest dreams. You did not ask me again, however, why Voldemort had left that mark on you. We discussed your scar, oh yes… we came very, very close to the subject. Why did I not tell you everything?

"Well, it seemed to me that twelve was, after all, hardly better than eleven to receive such information. I allowed you to leave my presence, bloodstained, exhausted but exhilarated, and if I felt a twinge of unease that I ought, perhaps, to have told you then, it was swiftly silenced. You were still so young, you see, and I could not find it in myself to spoil that night of triumph…

"Do you see, Harry? Do you see the flaw in my brilliant plan now? I had fallen into the trap I had foreseen, that I had told myself I could avoid, that I must avoid."

"I don't –"

"I cared about you too much," said Dumbledore simply. "I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than my plan, more for your life than the lives that might be lost if the plan failed. In other words, I acted exactly as Voldemort expects we fools who love to act.

"Is there a Defense? I defy anyone who has watched you as I have - and I have watched you more closely than you can have imagined - not to want to save you more pain than you had already suffered. What did I care if numbers of nameless and faceless people and creatures were slaughtered in the vague future, if in the here and now you were alive, and well, and happy? I never dreamed that I would have such a person on my hands.

"We entered your third year. I watched from afar as you struggled to repel Dementors, as you found Sirius, learned what he was and rescued him. Was I to tell you then, at the moment when you had triumphantly snatched your godfather from the jaws of the Ministry? But now, at the age of thirteen, my excuses were running out. Young you might be, but you had proved you were exceptional. My conscience was uneasy, Harry. I knew the time must come soon…"

"When Jack first came to Hogwarts, he had convinced me that we must defeat Voldemort quick, despite that he care the safety and the happiness of all the people he knew. He knew that it was better that Voldemort must be vanquished at all cost. He didn't want to burden you, Harry…but he was more worried of the safety of his family and fear the danger he might bring them. He made me realize the flaws of my plan and he convinced me just before the Final Task that I must tell you what I should have told you four years ago. I knew Voldemort would be back just after the maze, and I must do it now. I know you have long been ready for the knowledge I have kept from you for so long, because you have proved that I should have placed the burden upon you before this. My only Defense is this: I have watched you struggling under more burdens than any student who as ever passed through this school and I could not bring myself to add another - the greatest one of all."

Harry waited, but Dumbledore did not speak.

"I still don't understand."

"Voldemort tried to kill you when you were a child because of a prophecy made shortly before your birth. He knew the prophecy had been made, though he did not know its full contents. He set out to kill you when you were still a baby, believing he was fulfilling the terms of the prophecy. He discovered, to his cost, that he was mistaken, when the curse intended to kill you backfired. And so, I can imagine now that he has return today after your extraordinary escape, I can see he would be determined to hear that prophecy in its entirety. I believe he would seek knowledge of how to destroy you, Harry.

"So what's the prophecy said?"

"Fifteen years ago, on a cold, wet night, in a room above the bar at the Hog's Head inn. I had gone there to see an applicant for the post of Divination teacher, though it was against my inclination to allow the subject of Divination to continue at all. The applicant, however, was the great-great-granddaughter of a very famous, very gifted Seer and I thought it common politeness to meet her. I was disappointed. It seemed to me that she had not a trace of the gift herself. I told her, courteously I hope, that I did not think she would be suitable for the post. I turned to leave."

Dumbledore pulled out a small glass sphere that glowed with a dull inner light. He pulled out his wand and did a lot of complicated wand movements before the sphere seemed to open up and a fog came out of it. Then there was harsh, hoarse tones. Harry realized it was Sibyll Trelawney's voice, and he had only heard her use once that tone…

" _The one with the power to vanquish the - Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…_ "

Then soon, the silver mass of fog vanished inside the glass sphere and the lid snapped itself shut. Neither Dumbledore nor Harry made a sound.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry said very quietly, for Dumbledore, still staring at the Pensieve, seemed completely lost in thought. "It… did that mean… what did that mean?"

"It meant," said Dumbledore, "that the person who has the only chance of conquering Lord Voldemort for good was born at the end of July, nearly sixteen years ago. This boy would be born to parents who had already defied Voldemort three times."

Harry felt as though something was closing in on him. His breathing seemed difficult again.

"It means - _me_?"

Dumbledore surveyed him for a moment through his glasses.

"The odd thing, Harry," he said softly, "is that it may not have meant you at all. Sibyll's prophecy could have applied to two wizard boys, both born at the end of July that year, both of whom had parents in the Order of the Phoenix, both sets of parents having narrowly escaped Voldemort three times. One, of course, was you. The other was Neville Longbottom."

"But then… but then, why was it my name on the prophecy and not Neville's?"

"The official record was re-labeled after Voldemort's attack on you as a child," said Dumbledore. "It seemed plain to the keeper of the Hall of Prophecy that Voldemort could only have tried to kill you because he knew you to be the one to whom Sibyll was referring."

"Then - it might not be me?" said Harry

"I am afraid," said Dumbledore slowly, looking as though every word cost him a great effort, "that there is no doubt that it is you."

"But you said - Neville was born at the end of July, too - and his mum and dad –"

"You are forgetting the next part of the prophecy, the final identifying feature of the boy who could vanquish Voldemort… Voldemort himself would mark him as his equal. And so he did, Harry. He chose you, not Neville. He gave you the scar that has proved both blessing and curse."

"But he might have chosen wrong!" said Harry. "He might have marked the wrong person!"

"He chose the boy he thought most likely to be a danger to him," said Dumbledore. "And notice this, Harry: he chose, not the pureblood (which, according to his creed, is the only kind of wizard worth being or knowing) but the half-blood, like himself. He saw himself in you before he had ever seen you, and in marking you with that scar, he did not kill you, as he intended, but gave you powers, and a future, which have fitted you to escape him not once, but three times so far."

"Why did he do it, then?" said Harry, who felt numb and cold. "Why did he try and kill me as a baby? He should have waited to see whether Neville or I looked more dangerous when we were older and tried to kill whoever it was then –"

"That might, indeed, have been the more practical course," said Dumbledore, "except that Voldemort's information about the prophecy was incomplete. The Hog's Head inn, which Sibyll chose for its cheapness, has long attracted, shall we say, a more interesting clientele than the Three Broomsticks. As you and your friends found out to your cost, and I to mine that night, it is a place where it is never safe to assume you are not being overheard. Of course, I had not dreamed, when I set out to meet Sibyll Trelawney, that I would hear anything worth overhearing. My - our - one stroke of good fortune was that the eavesdropper was detected only a short way into the prophecy and thrown from the building."

"So he only heard -?"

"He heard only the beginning, the part foretelling the birth of a boy in July to parents who had thrice defied Voldemort. Consequently, he could not warn his master that to attack you would be to risk transferring power to you, and marking you as his equal. So Voldemort never knew that there might be danger in attacking you, that it might be wise to wait, to learn more. He did not know that you would have power the Dark Lord knows not–"

"But I don't!" said Harry, in a strangled voice. "I haven't any powers he hasn't got, I only got lucky today…"

"It was your heart that saved you Harry."

Harry closed his eyes, still a bit shocked of Jack's death. "The end of the prophecy... it was something about neither... can live..."

"… while the other survives," said Dumbledore.

"So," said Harry, dredging up the words from what felt like a deep well of despair inside him, "so does that mean that… that one of us has got to kill the other one… in the end?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore.

That was what Dumbledore told him, Harry shook his head. He looked at Ron and Hermione, they were still talking of course. They knew Harry was lost in his thoughts. He looked out the window and hear the train once again whistled. He thought back what happened yesterday…

Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower the following evening after he got rest in the infirmary. From what Hermione and Ron told him, Dumbledore had spoken to the school that morning at breakfast. He had merely requested that they leave Harry alone, that nobody ask him questions or badger him to tell the story of what had happened in the maze. Most people, he noticed, were skirting him in the corridors, avoiding his eyes. Some whispered behind their hands as he passed. He had also noticed most of the Slytherins were the most annoying ones with their looks. He guessed that many of them had believed Rita Skeeter's article about how disturbed and possibly dangerous he was. Perhaps they were formulating their own theories about how Jack had died. He found he didn't care very much. He liked it best when he was with Ron and Hermione and they were talking about other things, or else letting him sit in silence while they played chess. He felt as though all three of them had reached an understanding they didn't need to put into words; that each was waiting for some sign, some word, of what was going on outside Hogwarts - and that it was useless to speculate about what might be coming until they knew anything for certain. The only time they touched upon the subject was when Ron told Harry about a meeting Mrs. Weasley had had with Dumbledore before going home.

"She went to ask him if you could come straight to us this summer," he said. "But he wants you to go back to the Dursleys, at least at first."

Harry sighed and then nodded. He already knew why Dumbledore had sent him with the Dursleys in the first place.

The only person apart from Ron and Hermione that Harry felt able to talk to was Hagrid. As there was no longer a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, they had those lessons free. They used the one on Thursday afternoon to go down and visit Hagrid in his cabin. It was a bright and sunny day; Fang bounded out of the open door as they approached, barking and wagging his tail madly.

"Who's that?" called Hagrid, coming to the door. He had tears in his eyes. "Harry!"

He strode out to meet them, pulled Harry into a one-armed hug, ruffled his hair, and said, "Good ter see yeh, mate. Good ter see yeh." Harry knew that Hagrid had been crying a bit because Harry had notice few months ago Jack had loved to help with Hagrid and Jack would usually come over for tea.

When he, Ron, and Hermione entered the Hall, they saw at once that the usual decorations were missing. The Great Hall was normally decorated with the winning House's colors for the Leaving Feast. Tonight, however, there were black drapes on the wall behind the teachers' table.

Harry knew instantly that they were there as a mark of respect to Jack.

The real Mad-Eye Moody was at the staff table now, his wooden leg and his magical eye back in place. He was extremely twitchy, jumping every time someone spoke to him. Harry couldn't blame him; Moodys fear of attack was bound to have been increased by his ten-month imprisonment in his own trunk. Professor Karkaroff s chair was empty. Harry wondered, as he sat down with the other Gryffindors, where Karkaroff was now, and whether Voldemort had caught up with him.

Madame Maxime was still there. She was sitting next to Hagrid. They were talking quietly together. Further along the table, sitting next to Professor McGonagall, was Snape. His eyes lingered on Harry for a moment as Harry looked at him. His expression was difficult to read. He looked as sour and unpleasant as ever. Harry continued to watch him, long after Snape had looked away.

Harry's musings were ended by Professor Dumbledore, who stood up at the staff table. The Great Hall, which in any case had been less noisy than it usually was at the Leaving Feast, became very quiet.

"The end," said Dumbledore, looking around at them all, "of another year."

He paused, and his eyes fell upon the Slytherin table. He got to his feet, and theirs were still the saddest and palest faces in the Hall. But they had tried to hide it with their indifferent look. Slytherins, Harry thought.

"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," said Dumbledore, "but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here," he gestured toward the Slytherins, "enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Jack Black."

They did it, all of them; the benches scraped as everyone in the Hall stood, and raised their goblets, and echoed, in one loud, low, rumbling voice, "Jack Black."

Harry caught a glimpse of Jack's friends thought the crowd. Daphne's cheeks were red, and Theo had his arm wrapped around her. They both had tried to hide their grief and were probably the one who was affected the loss of Jack the most. Pansy had tears in her eyes but was quickly blinking them away, Draco looked like he was ignoring everyone and had his fists clenched if you looked closely, Goyle and Crabbe tried to look like they weren't much affected but there was a hint of sadness in their eyes.

Harry looked down at the table as they all sat down again.

"Jack was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Slytherin house," Dumbledore continued. "He was ambitious and cunning, but he does have many qualities of other houses such as loyalty, kindness, compassion, courageous, brilliant young mind. He valued fair play, and he prove to you he is a decent Slytherin." He chuckled a bit.

The students looked surprised.

"His determination to rescue a student whether he knew them or not, he still cared." Dumbledore sighed. "His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about."

Harry raised his head and stared at Dumbledore.

"Jack Black was murdered by Lord Voldemort."

A panicked whisper swept the Great Hall. People were staring at Dumbledore in disbelief, in horror. He looked perfectly calm as he watched them mutter themselves into silence.

"The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore continued, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so - either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Jack died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory."

Stunned and frightened, every face in the Hall was turned toward Dumbledore now… or almost every face. Over at the Slytherin table Harry saw Draco Malfoy had looked up in almost panic, then he looked at his friends.

"There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Jack's death," Dumbledore went on. "I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter."

A kind of ripple crossed the Great Hall as a few heads turned in Harry's direction before flicking back to face Dumbledore.

"Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort," said Dumbledore. "Jack had helped Harry's escape, knowing that there is no hope for him to survive against Voldemort. Harry risked his own life to return Jack's body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him and Jack."

Dumbledore turned gravely to Harry and raised his goblet once more. Nearly everyone in the Great Hall followed suit. They murmured his name, as they had murmured Jack's, and drank to him. But through a gap in the standing figures.

Harry saw that most of the Slytherins looked conflicted for a moment. Daphne, Theo, Pansy touched their goblets first. Draco had hesitantly touched the cup before he drank it, and Crabbe and Goyle followed. Soon, the rest of the Slytherins followed them. They had respected Jack in many ways.

When everyone had once again resumed their seats, Dumbledore continued, "The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened - of Lord Voldemorts return - such ties are more important than ever before."

Dumbledore looked from Madame Maxime and Hagrid, to Fleur Delacour and her fellow Beauxbatons students, to Viktor Krum and the Durmstrangs at the Slytherin table. Krum, Harry saw, looked wary, almost frightened, as though he expected Dumbledore to say something harsh.

"Every guest in this Hall," said Dumbledore, and his eyes lingered upon the Durmstrang students, "will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again - in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemorts gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.

"It is my belief - and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken - that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst.

"Remember Jack. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was cunning, good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Jack Black."

Harry closed his eyes, shaking his head. He then went back to the last conversation he and Dumbledore had…

Harry sat on the edge of his bed. His things were all packed inside his trunk. The room was empty, his roommates had went downstairs and they could sense Harry wanted to be alone. Emerald eyes stayed at the wand he was holding.

Jack's wand.

Harry looked up when he heard footsteps. He saw Dumbledore standing next to him.

"Sir…what about his wand?" Harry hesitantly asked as he held up Jack's wand. Harry had lost his wand and knew that he needed to buy one from Ollivanders.

"Keep it."

"W-what?"

"Ollivander once told me the wand chooses the wizard…" Dumbledore smiled. "I believe Jack's wand has chosen you."

"But sir…"

"Nonsense Harry, I believe Jack would want you to keep his ever since he switched his wand with yours."

Harry looked down at Jack's wand that was now his. When he held it, he felt the same warmth when Harry held his first wand at Ollivanders.

He vowed to bring down Voldemort in the memory of Jack and the people Voldemort hurt.

For everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is the end. Thx for reading. I had fun coming up with a mystery and a plot. And it still continues in the sequel ;) But don't expect Jack to be there. He's dead.
> 
> I don't know if I'll ever post the sequel. I do already have ideas around it and how it will play out since I outline the mystery, but I'm not sure if I'll get around writing it when I have other fanfics that I'm working on and lining up.


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